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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399551">A Still Point</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilhelmina_murray/pseuds/wilhelmina_murray'>wilhelmina_murray</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Turning World [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hemlock Grove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Horror, Original Character(s), Prophecy, Rating Increase, Romance, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Upir, Werewolves, Witches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:54:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>52,268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilhelmina_murray/pseuds/wilhelmina_murray</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy came to town looking for the Rumanceks, finding only a vandalized trailer.  Stuck in Hemlock Grove, she takes a "night nurse" job at Home 44, only to find a mysterious nameless baby in her care, and an equally mysterious and mesmerizing employer.  Can Lucy save Roman Godfrey from himself?  Can they, along with Peter and Destiny, save Nadia from the cult intent on destroying her?  Or will Lucy's own secrets bring destruction on herself?</p><p>This is an alternate season 2, mostly because I didn't like the Miranda Cates character.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roman Godfrey/OFC, Roman Godfrey/Original Female Character(s), Roman Godfrey/Peter Rumancek (implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Turning World [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello Everyone!  This is the very first fanfic I've EVER written.  I stumbled onto Hemlock Grove just this year during quarantine.  Shocking, I know.  And although I loved Seasons 1 &amp; 2, I didn't care for Season 3.  There also a few things about Season 2 I wasn't crazy about, namely the Miranda Cates character.  I felt like her only point was to get Roman and Peter into bed at the same time (not that I'm complaining).  My problem was I felt that Peter got his great love story with Letha in Season 1, but Roman was left hanging for the rest of the series.  I wanted him to have a great love that was NOT a sibling, thank you very much.  So this is an alternate season 2.</p><p>Don't get me wrong.  I ship Roman/Peter.  They have the best chemistry on the show.  However, I suck at writing M/M, so here we are.</p><p>I created this character based on a line from the 1st episode of Season 2, when Roman tells Anna "Lucy will be here soon," but we never see a Lucy.  I also kept certain plot points from Miranda's story that I found interesting, like the spontaneous lactation.  However, I scrapped the Dr. Spivak storyline.  I also messed with timeline and a few plot beats here and there.</p><p>Constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman looked down at the bloodied corpse of his mother, the taste of her blood still hot in his mouth, the power rushing through his veins.  He felt high, euphoric.  Strength surged within him, as if his fists and his erection could break bricks.  He’d beaten her, the evil cunt that had mesmerized him to rape Letha, one of the only three people in the world who cared for him, who had cast Shelley aside like a used napkin, and tried to make him murder his own child.  She thought that he would drain the baby, taking her half-upir blood and power into himself.  Instead he’d taken it straight from the wicked, manipulative source.  And now all that remained was to claim his birthright.</p><p>Still, as he stared at the blood wings painted on the wall above him, he heard the cooing of the baby in the funereal bassinet behind him, and could only think of two words:  What now?</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Three Weeks Later</p><p><br/>
</p><p>It was almost 8:30 am. </p><p>Lucy Hennigar sat in her Chevy with the engine running.  She was staring at the ruined trailer in front of her.  The door hung askew.  The siding had been graffitied with red spray paint, words like “gypsy killers” and “your dead,” a grammatical error that set Lucy’s teeth on edge.  It spoke to the ignorance level the vandals.</p><p>No vehicle by the trailer.  No movement inside.  She wasn’t here.</p><p>Lucy sighed and shifted into reverse.  She backed out of the gravel lot and drove onto the road, in the direction of town.</p><p>A few minutes later, she killed the ignition in the parking lot of the Hemlock Diner.  If Lynda was a wash, at least she could get some breakfast while she figured out what to do with herself.  She’d driven four-ish hours to get here.  She’d purposely left around 4:30 in the hopes that she’d arrive at the trailer before Lynda left for any errands, but after her son went to school.  It was per Lynda’s instructions.  Something very bad had obviously gone down.  She hoped that Lynda had only bugged out of the vandalized trailer, and not out of town.  Lucy may be up shit creek, if that were the case.  Her hopes were not high.  Romani usually didn’t stick around when the locals got this nasty.</p><p>“Hi there.  What can I get ya?” the waitress asked.  She was in her fifties at least, with cigarette stains on her teeth and fingers.  She wore no makeup, her yellowed gray hair in a low, blunt ponytail.  She was practically swimming in her uniform.   Her reading glasses, however, were on a glittery lanyard strung with plastic rhinestones in rainbow colors.  There was a button pinned to the lapel of her uniform, the kind usually advertising a politician.  It read “Best Granny Ever.”  The nametag next to it read “Debbie.”</p><p>“Hi,” Lucy said, looking over the one-page laminated menu.  “Um, I’ll have the buttermilk pancakes and a coffee, please.”</p><p>“Cream?” Debbie asked.</p><p>“Yes, please.” </p><p>“Ok,” she said.  “I’m Debbie, if you need anything.”</p><p>“Um, just one thing, Debbie,” Lucy said.  “I stopped in town looking for a friend.  Do you happen to know someone named Lynda Rumancek?”</p><p>Debbie frowned for a moment.  “I know there was a Peter Rumancek that everyone got in a stir about a few months ago.  As far as I know, he left town with his mother.  I don’t know if her name was Lynda or not.”</p><p>“Oh,” Lucy deflated.  “Thanks anyway.”</p><p>“Oh, but there’s a Destiny Rumancek that runs a fortune telling place downtown.  I imagine that’s a relation.  It’s right on Dam Street over top of the Medical Pot place.  But are you sure you want to go there?  That’s a nasty part of town.  Nasty people.”  Debbie wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something bad, and Lucy’s liking for the Best Granny Ever melted a bit.</p><p>“Thanks for the heads up,” she said, trying to keep her smile in place.</p><p>On the upside, the pancakes were delicious.</p><p>She knocked on the door of the apartment.  A carving on the door showed an open eye.  It made Lucy nervous, although she couldn’t fathom why.  On the third knock, a tall brunette answered.  She wore a blue bindi jewel and pink kimono painted with white cherry blossoms. </p><p>“Yes?” she asked in a sultry tone.  “Have you come for a reading?”</p><p>“Um,” Lucy was at a loss for a moment.  “Are… Are you Destiny?”</p><p>“Yes, I am,” she said, again laying the sexy on fairly thick.  “How can I help you?”</p><p>“Um, I’m Lucy.”  She rummaged in the pocket of her bomber jacket and pulled out an envelope.  “Do you know Lynda Rumancek?  She sent me this letter and…”</p><p>Destiny’s eye lit up.  She gripped Lucy’s shoulder and hauled her into the apartment, slamming the door.</p><p>“You’re Lucy!” she exclaimed.  “Aunt Lynda told me she’d be sending for you, but I didn’t know she did!  Nicholae was my grandfather.”</p><p>“No shit!” Lucy said.  She couldn’t stop her grin.  “Nicholae was a good guy.”</p><p>“Oh, but Lynda split.”</p><p>“I figured,” Lucy said.  “I saw the trailer.  I stopped there first.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Destiny replied.  “There are some good people here, but there are a few more fuckwads.”</p><p>“I would have come sooner, but I didn’t get her letter for a while,” Lucy explained.  “I kept a P.O. Box for letters from Nicholae, but I hadn’t opened it in a while.  Cause, you know…” </p><p>“I know,” Destiny replied.  She jumped up.  Lucy could actually see her mind change gears.  “Want a drink?”  She reached behind the bar in her kitchen and came up with a bottle of Stoli. </p><p>Lucy snorted.  “Um, it’s like, 10:00 in the morning.”</p><p>“So we’ll throw some OJ in it.”</p><p>Lucy laughed.  She liked Destiny immediately.</p><p>Lucy was tipsy before noon, and absolutely sloshed by 2:00.</p><p>“So, here I am,” she said, teetering in her chair.  The crystal ball from Spenser Gifts (according to Destiny, it was expected in a gypsy fortune teller’s <em>office</em>) balanced between them next to the bottle.  “No Nicholae.  No Lynda.  You don’t know the process.”</p><p>“Yet!” Destiny interrupted. </p><p>“There’s no buyer anyway,” Lucy continued, “and I already gave up the lease on my apartment.  I’m fuckin’ stuck.”</p><p>“You need a J.O.B.  Got any special skills?” Destiny asked.  “Can you read palms?  Sell weed?  I know a guy.”</p><p>“I’m an RN,” Lucy replied.  “But there’s not a hospital in town, right?  I mean I don’t remember one.”</p><p>“No, but there’s the White Tower,” Destiny mused.  “They’re always looking for medical people.”  She frowned.  “I don’t like that place, though.  Its aura is all kinds of ugly.”</p><p>“Beggars with all their shit in the trunk of their car can’t be choosers,” Lucy said, slinging back the screwdriver dregs in her glass.  “Now I just need a place to stay.  Know anyone who’s renting?”</p><p>Destiny thought a moment, then smirked.  “Noooo, but I know a place you can have rent free.  It’s just a bit of a fixer-upper.”</p><p>Lucy looked at her, confused, and then realization dawned.  “Nicholae’s trailer?  But what about the fuckwads?”</p><p>“It wasn’t the trailer they were interested in.  They were after Peter.  You know, Lynda’s son.  And they’re gone.  This town has a long memory but a short attention span.  Everyone will be curious about the new girl, but no one has a reason to fuck with you.” </p><p>Destiny smiled and patted Lucy’s jeans-clad knee.  “I’ll tell you what.  Crash here tonight.  I have a lovely unused guest room.  First thing in the morning, we’ll take a look at the trailer, and start the cleanup.  What do you say?”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Lucy said.  “I mean, you don’t even know me.”</p><p>“Give me your hands,” Destiny said, all business now. </p><p>Lucy held out her palms.  She expected Destiny to talk about how “interesting” her love line or her lifeline were, but instead, she laid her own palms over Lucy’s and closed her eyes.  For a moment nothing happened.</p><p>Lucy whispered.  “Am I supposed to say somethi…”</p><p>Destiny interrupted her.  Her voice dropped to a deep timbre.  “The Una who bore you runs in your veins, as soon will the Welhik Hane.”</p><p>Lucy felt her insides clench. </p><p>Destiny continued in her deep dream voice.  “Those who were once alive now flow in a current of pain.  The seed of misery flowers hope.  A still point at the turning of the world.” </p><p>Destiny opened her eyes, and Lucy’s staring back at her in wonder.</p><p>“You’ve got a good aura, sweetie,” Destiny replied, as if that explained everything.  She grasped Lucy’s hands and shook them, a reassuring gesture.  “So, you’re staying.”  It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“I mean, you did day-drink with me,” Lucy laughed.  “Okay.”</p><p>“Yay!”  Destiny clapped like a giddy little girl.  “I’ll get some fresh sheets for the guest room.”  She stopped a moment, turned, and raised an eyebrow at Lucy.  “Unless of course you’d rather share with me.”</p><p>Lucy looked incredulous.  She looked at Destiny, stunning in her pink kimono, and then down at her own size 16 jeans, her holey Ziggy Stardust t shirt, her beat up Chuck Taylor knock offs.  “Um, I appreciate the offer, and you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, but I… um…”  She kept stammering.</p><p>Destiny giggled.  “No worries, honey.  Just checking.”  She disappeared into her bedroom.</p><p>Lucy shook her head in amused disbelief.  Nicholae’s granddaughter was strange.  But then again, strange was a relative term in Lucy’s life, wasn’t it?</p><p>For the first time in quite a while, Lucy felt warm, from both the vodka and the kindness.</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Lucy had assumed that the nursing positions available through the White Tower would actually be <em>at</em> the White Tower, but Human Resources at the Godfrey Institute posted a position for a home health nurse, a night shift position.  The hours were 7:00pm to 7:00am, which was perfect, considering the hours Destiny kept with her “career” definitely leaned toward the nocturnal.  Home health seemed less daunting than the White Tower itself, which honestly looked like an albino glass and concrete penis, completely out of the place in the rest of the sleepy town.  Besides, the pay for this particular job was substantially better than your average hospital floor nurse paycheck.  That was how she found herself sitting in the extremely posh living room of an extremely posh house in the forest outside of town. </p><p>Her interview with the white-haired Mr. Conway was daunting to say the least.  The man had the personality of a vacuum cleaner, and the other nurse (housekeeper? House-elf?), Anna, seemed like spawn of The Cryptkeeper and Nurse Ratched.  Still, Lucy kept her composure.  She sold her skills and experience well, and the suit that Destiny helped her shop for was very flattering and professional.  And she wanted the job.  The workplace was incredible, and pay was, again, nothing to sneeze at.  Lucy figured she have to wait at least a week for a call back either way, but at the end of the interview, Mr. Conway just nodded and disappeared.  He returned with a stack of contracts and NDA forms as thick as her wrist. </p><p>She read the pages, which distilled to:  “Do the job, ask no questions, and you will be paid handsomely.  Tell anyone about anything, even where and who you work for, and we will own you until your bones are dust.” </p><p>She signed. </p><p>It wasn’t just that she could use the money.  If things got weird, she could bail.  She’d done it before.  She may not be Romani, but she knew the value of running.</p><p>The following night, she started at “Home 44.” </p><p>She arrived at the house just before 7:00 in her flower print scrubs, her blue-black hair in a braid.  Cryptkeeper Anna led her upstairs to a door with an access code key pad.  She gave Lucy the code and opened the door. </p><p>As soon as the soundproof door had been breached, Lucy heard the crying.  The door opened on a nursery, complete with crib, mobile, changing table, soft plush carpet.  Every inch of the walls was lined with soundproofing pyramid foam.  Lucy should have heard subconscious alarm bells.  Something was very off about this set up, but Lucy felt none of the tredpidation she should have in entering a place obviously made to be a hidden “non-place.”  She stepped into the room without hesitation. </p><p>She looked down into the crib at the second most beautiful baby she’d ever seen, wrapped in a fuzzy pink sleeper.  The poor thing was wailing her head off.</p><p>“It’s why we need a night nurse,” Anna said behind her, with about as much affection as one would give a leaky faucet.  “She doesn’t sleep.  She hardly takes the formula.  She just cries and cries.  I can’t handle her on my own anymore.  I’m so tired.”</p><p>Lucy didn’t respond to her.  She just reached down and lifted the baby into her arms.  She was so soft and warm.  So tiny.  Lucy held her close and began to rock her.  “Hello, Angel,” she whispered.  And it was like Cryptkeeper Anna was no longer there.  The world fell away, and there was only Lucy and pink bundle who suddenly stopped crying and stared at her with otherworldly blue eyes.</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>It was a week before Christmas when Lucy officially met her employer. </p><p>For almost six months she’d been working five nights a week, caring for Baby Nadia. </p><p>Three days in, she gave the baby a name.  Cryptkeeper Anna said she had none, and insisted on continuing to call her “the baby,” as in “the coffeepot,” “the couch,” “the baby.”  Lucy refused to go along with that.  She was a child.  She needed a name, even a nickname just between the two of them.  Lucy chose Nadia.  She’d always liked it.  It meant hope.</p><p>It didn’t take long for her to realize that her “home health nurse” title was a complete euphemism.  She was a night nanny.  She still brought her stethoscope for appearances sake, but ditched the scrubs in favor of leggings, jeans, t shirts and sweaters.  It made her feel more comfortable, in this house that screamed anything but comfort.</p><p>Not that the house wasn’t beautiful.  It was perfect for the pages of Architectural Digest.  But it definitely wasn’t homey.  There was a coldness to it, the open spaces, the hard angles, the leather, the beautiful, if not disturbing, artwork.  Nadia’s room, even with its bizarre soundproofing, was the one cozy spot in the place.  The rest of the house didn’t feel like a home, despite what the neon sign outside read.</p><p>The trailer was home.  Destiny had helped her work wonders on it. </p><p>Repainting the exterior to cover the graffiti was just the beginning.  They’d tackled that while Lucy crashed in Destiny’s guest room for the first week.  After that, the first paycheck arrived, and Lucy’s eyes boggled.  In two months, they were able to get new carpet, new curtains, new furniture and fixtures.  The interior now looked less like a trailer and more like a cozy condo. </p><p>After the work was done, Lucy took Destiny to an obscenely expensive thank you dinner complete with champagne, dessert, ouzo, and an Uber when they were entirely too sloshed to drive home.  Lucy was able to shove a wad of back-rent cash into Destiny’s bag, despite her protests.</p><p>Even so, Destiny still didn’t like the idea of Lucy working for the White Tower.  The NDA prevented Lucy from divulging where she was <em>actually</em> working, but Destiny seemed to think that no ridiculously fat paycheck was worth being linked with the name Godfrey, even if Lynda, Peter and even Destiny had positive dealings with them in the past.</p><p>Regardless, Lucy loved her work, but more specifically she loved Nadia.  Ear-piercing crying and all, she was an absolute angel. </p><p>Lucy would arrive just before 7:00, give Cryptkeeper Anna her walking papers, change Nadia, feed her, and settle into the rocker for a couple of story books and a song.  Once Nadia settled to sleep, Lucy would read a book and grab a nap on the nanny sofa in the adjoining room until it was time for her next feeding, which was anytime between midnight and 2:00.  She fed and changed Nadia one last time before handing her off to the Cryptkeeper at 7:00 am, at which time, the intense crying would begin again.</p><p>And every time, Lucy’s heart ached at that sad, angry cry.  It killed Lucy to leave Nadia, especially now that she was old enough to lean far out of Anna’s arms, with her little hands opening and closing, grasping for Lucy.  If it were her decision, she’d be Nadia’s <em>only</em> nanny.  The Cryptkeeper was a cold hearted bitch.  But Lucy didn’t make the decisions.  It wasn’t her name on the checks.</p><p>It was the week before Christmas when she finally met the man whose name <em>was</em>, Roman Godfrey.</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Lucy didn’t have a key.  It wasn’t a part of her job description to have her own access to the house.  Each time she arrived for her shift, she had to knock for Cryptkeeper Anna or Mr. Conway to let her in.  She knocked that evening as usual, blowing into her gloved hands as she waited.  The snow hadn’t arrived in Hemlock Grove yet, but the cold certainly had.  She tugged her cap down over her ears and checked that she’d dropped her car keys into the right spot in her purse.  She was still peaking into her bag when the door opened. </p><p>Lucy looked up into his face and temporarily forgot where she was.  Mr. Conway was suddenly a tall Adonis in a black v-neck t-shirt.  His face was a motherfucking laundry list of beautiful: pale satin skin, pink-tinged pillowy lips, large amaranthine green eyes that seemed to be boring holes in her face.  Destiny called Roman a “pretty little rich boy.”  She failed to specify that he was actually a “magnificent intimidating rich young man.”</p><p>“Yes?” he said.</p><p>“Oh, um.  I’m Lucy,” she said, holding out her hand. </p><p>He looked down at her hand and back to her face.  He said nothing.</p><p>She lowered her hand.  “Rrrright.  I’m the night nanny… night nurse.  You must be Roman.  It’s nice to finally meet you.”</p><p>His eyes stayed on her, but his mouth softened into a smirk.  “Most of the people I hire call me Mr. Godfrey.  I insist on it.”</p><p>“Well, technically, Mr. Conway hired me, so…”  She trailed off.  Knee-jerk sarcasm.  Lucy mentally kicked herself.  Roman Godfrey had a reputation in town for a short fuse and a zero tolerance for humor.  Unfortunately, she’d had a lifelong struggle with verbal diarrhea. </p><p>She followed her usual modus operandi, keep calm and fuck it.  She smiled, looked him in the eye and shrugged.  “So, can I come in or am I fired now?”</p><p>His eyebrows shot up.  She hoped that meant he was impressed and not incredulous. </p><p>“By all means,” he said.  He stepped aside, and actually held the door for her. </p><p><em>Wonders never cease</em>, she thought.</p><p>“Thanks,” she said. </p><p>She stepped inside and went about her usual ritual of removing her hat, mittens, and coat.  She toed off her Chuck Taylors and padded into the living room in her socks, laying her outers and bag on the ottoman.  She heard him clear his throat behind her and she turned.  His perfectly shaped eyebrows were up again, and the corners of his rosy lips were upturned in a not-quite smile.  He looked down at her shoes by the door and then back to her.  His head cocked to the side inquisitively.</p><p>“Sorry,” she said.  “I don’t like to wear shoes in Nadia’s room.  It keeps the carpet clean where she crawls and plays.”</p><p>“Nadia?”</p><p>“That’s what I call her.  She needed a name.” Lucy replied.</p><p>He said nothing.  His poker face was fucking impeccable. </p><p>“You know, the baby?  The cutie-pie you have upstairs in the creepy soundproofed nursery?”</p><p>He said nothing, but the not-quite-smile turned into a definitely-not smile.</p><p>“And I’ve over-stepped,” Lucy continued.  “Anyway, I’d better get upstairs.  Anna will be getting antsy.”</p><p>Lucy turned and padded up the stairs.  He called up behind her.  “Nadia is a nice name.”</p><p>She looked down at him.  How big were his eyes, anyway?  After a moment, Lucy smiled, warmly.  “I’ve always liked it.”</p><p>He nodded and turned toward the kitchen.  His face looked sad.  Lost.  It hurt Lucy a little to look at it.</p><p><em>So the rich and beautiful can’t buy happiness,</em> she thought.</p><p><br/>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Roman didn’t know what to make of her.  For him, most people fell into three categories.  There were those who feared or hated him for his money, his name, or his general attitude.  There were the sycophants looking to ingratiate themselves for cash, favors, or sex.  And there were the very very few who he loved and trusted.</p><p>This girl didn’t seem to be afraid of him.  She didn’t kiss his ass, nor was she aching to drop her panties, that he noticed.  She had a friendly warmth to her.  Her free way of speaking reminded him of…</p><p>
  <em>So, what am I thinking…</em>
</p><p>No, he wouldn’t go to that place.  That was an abyss.</p><p>She was several years older than him, but she wore socks with kittens on them.  Her t-shirt was screened with Falcor from the Neverending Story.  Her jeans were ripped, but she wore red lipstick and mascara.  She was pretty, but not in any way he’d give a second glance to before.  Before last year. </p><p>Back then, he would have made jokes about fat goth girls and Wuthering Heights.  He would have ignored her in favor of the next pair of slender legs in a short skirt.  But that was before.  He noticed people now.</p><p>It wasn’t a conscious change.  God knew he wanted to go back to that time before.  It’s why he’d spent so much time in Maui, trying to lose himself in rum and Healani Kaulakakui.  But the time, even in a beautiful tropical oasis, caught up with him.  He needed to come home.  And on his return, he noticed how cold the town was.  Perhaps it had always been cold, but he’d had Shelley, Peter, and Letha.  That was the misery of it.  He belonged here, but the belonging was hollow. </p><p>He hadn’t even named his daughter.  The revelation of the memory of what he’d done, what his mother compelled him to do, was branded into his heart every time he looked at her.  He could count the number of times he’d held her on one hand.  What kind of a father was that? </p><p>It took a stranger, albeit a kind stranger, to name his little girl. </p><p>She’d picked a good one.  He Googled the name Nadia on his phone.  It meant hope.  That’s what he needed right now.  Hope. </p><p>The girl (<em>Lucy - He needed to remember her name</em>) had given him a small measure of that, even in a little thing like a name. </p><p>She <em>was</em> pretty.  Big girls had never been his thing, but her smile made him want to smile.  She reminded him of Ashley Graham, but fairer.  He liked her blue-black hair.  She had nice big tits.  He wondered what color her nipples might be.</p><p><em>Jesus</em>, he thought.  <em>Maybe I haven’t changed.</em></p><p>
  
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Merry and Bright</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucy didn’t take the day off on Christmas Eve. </p><p>Destiny told her she was insane.  There would be a party at her place that evening and Lucy was invited.  A few extended family members and Romani friends would be at the apartment for Velija dinner, she said.  The spread would be amazing.  They would decorate the tree together and push the limits of alcohol consumption. </p><p>But Lucy couldn’t shake her sad feeling at the thought of Nadia spending her first Christmas Eve in that cold house with Conway and the Cryptkeeper.  Roman surely wouldn’t be there.  She was certain he had some kind of a debauched orgy planned with naked girls in elf shoes or something. </p><p>Lucy was suddenly struck with the mental image of Roman Godfrey nude in a Santa hat.  Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lips to keep from laughing to herself like a madwoman. </p><p>Nadia needed to be with someone who loved her for her first Christmas.  Lucy had already wrapped her presents:  a stuffed green frog that would croak when squeezed, a set of rainbow rubber duckies for the tub, and a Little Mermaid story book. </p><p>It was the first Christmas that Lucy looked forward to in ages.  It wasn’t that she disliked the holiday.  It was a lovely time of year.  She liked the songs, the movies on television, but it wasn’t a time for people to be alone.  Lucy had been alone for a long time.  It made the holiday forlorn instead of nostalgic.  She didn’t want Nadia to feel that, even if she didn’t understand the meaning of those feelings yet.</p><p>And so she arrived at Home 44 on Christmas evening before 7:00 as usual.  She knocked and looked around at the cold night.  Still no snow, but her breath made white clouds around her face. </p><p>When the door opened, it was Roman. </p><p>“Oh, hi!”  she said.  Her surprise at seeing him made her words come out much louder than she’d anticipated.  “Um, Merry Christmas!”</p><p>His smile was small, but lovely.  “Merry Christmas,” he said.  “Come in, it’s freezing.”</p><p>She stepped past him, toeing off her shoes.  She set her things on the ottoman and turned. </p><p>He was really smiling now, an actual honest-to-God smile.  In all the times she’d seen and spoken with him in the past week, she’d never seen him do that.  It was stunning.  It changed his face completely.  He looked younger and a thousand pounds lighter.  “Wow,” he deadpanned.  His voice sounded on the verge of laughter, and that was lovely too.</p><p>He was staring at her outfit.  She wore a green button down cardigan that fell past her hips.  It was bright green and decorated with green tinsel and red glitter rhinestones that made her look like a walking Christmas tree.  Her leggings were red and white candy cane stripes.  Lucy grinned and did a mock curtsy.  “Like it?  I thought Nadia would get a kick out of playing with the tinsel.  It’s kind of amazing, right?”</p><p>“It’s something,” he said. </p><p>“I’ve got presents for Nadia in my bag,” Lucy said.  “Where’s your tree?  Did you finally put one up?” </p><p>She looked around the living room.  Roman pointed to an artificial table top tree in the corner. </p><p>“That’s it?  You’ve got to be kidding,” Lucy said.  “Oh, Charlie Brown, whatever shall we do with you?” </p><p>She pulled the gifts from her bag and placed them underneath the table and tree.  “She can open those with you in the morning,” Lucy said.  “You know, after Santa comes.”</p><p>“Of course,” he said.  His smile had faded, but the shadow of it was still there. </p><p>“I’d better head upstairs,” Lucy said.  “You should do that more.”</p><p>“What?” he asked.</p><p>“Smile,” Lucy said.  “It lights you up.”</p><p>“Well, something has to compete with your sweater,” he said.</p><p>“And they say his heart grew <em>three</em> sizes that day,” Lucy replied.  She could feel her cheeks ache from the size of her grin, and she bit her lip to hold it in check. </p><p>Roman’s eyes widened for just a moment.</p><p>“You okay?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“Fine,” he replied, clearing his throat.  “Go ahead, I’ll be down here if you need anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucy went upstairs, and after a moment, Roman heard Anna and Conway shut the door to their room.  He stood alone in the living room, staring at the lights of the table top tree, and the little packages beneath.  She called it his “Charlie Brown” tree.  She was probably right.  He should have had Conway pick up a big fir. </p><p>He stepped to the bar and poured himself a bourbon, slugging it back. </p><p>Something happened just now.  She’d looked at him with the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her.  She’d bitten her lip, like she was trying to keep her smile from exploding right off her face, and something moved inside his chest.  He’d noticed the tiny lights of the tree reflecting in her dark brown eyes, the way her hair fell over one shoulder of that ridiculous sweater, and that beautiful goddamn smile.  He felt it again, that movement.  Fuck.  He knew that feeling.  He’d had it before when he’d watched Peter emerge from inside the wolf the first time.  It was something close to awe.  There was another name for it too, but Roman didn’t want to think about that. </p><p>She was his employee.  He should never have let himself get this relaxed with her.  He’d seen her every evening for the past week, exchanging pleasantries, sarcasms.  She was funny as well as kind.  He found himself looking forward to 7:00 when her knock would come to the door, and the house seemed extra empty when she left.  He didn’t feel any kind of attachment like this to Anna, or to Pryce, or to anyone else on the payroll.  This was bad news. </p><p>It was dangerous to care for anyone with Olivia back.  Pryce had sent word to him in Maui.  Somehow Dr. Fuckenstein had resurrected her, even gave her lying manipulative tongue back.  Olivia made it her life’s mission to destroy anyone he cared about, to cut him off from affection and humanity and make him entirely dependent on her.  He was terrified for Nadia.  And Lucy.</p><p>He had a sudden flash of memory… a razorblade over a bassinette.  The bourbon glass slipped from his hand into the sink.  It shattered against the stainless steel.  “Fuck,” he muttered. </p><p>He collected the pieces and threw them in the garbage bin, nicking his middle finger in the process.  He looked down at the dark blood welling against his skin.  The hunger was starting again.  He could feel it low in his belly, not overwhelming yet, but it was only a matter of time.</p><p>He’d found ways to get by in Hawaii.  Prostitutes, used to the tourist trade and requests from freaks far from home, barely batted an eyelash at his requests to open a vein.  Being half-way across the planet provided him the anonymity to carry on this way without leaving a body trail, a few anemic hustlers, perhaps, but no corpses. </p><p>It was different here.  Hemlock Grove had exactly one pimp, Davy, who ran whores out of the nasty motel on the edge of town.  But Davy knew him, and so did his girls.  Roman had been a regular.  He had to find another way. </p><p>He would do anything to protect Nadia from Olivia, and he couldn’t let her get her claws into Lucy either.  But could he protect them from himself when the hunger turned him into a raging animal? </p><p>Peter could have talked him through it, but he’d bailed.  Fucker.</p><p> </p><p>Not long before dawn, Lucy descended the stairs, Nadia in her arms. </p><p>Roman jumped up from the couch.  Being in the same room with the baby instantly set his nerves on edge.  Thoughts of his mother and Letha and Peter, coupled with the deep fear of harming her punched low in his guts at the sight of her.</p><p>“Hey,” Lucy said, softly.  “You’re up early for a Saturday.”  She looked him over.  He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.  “You didn’t sleep, did you?”</p><p>“A lot on my mind,” he said.  Lucy could feel the tension rolling off of him.</p><p>“I just thought we’d come down to see what Santa brought,” she said.  She looked at Nadia.  “Right?”  Lucy gave the baby a squeeze, and Nadia cooed.</p><p>Roman smiled, tightly.  “Have a look.”</p><p>The mountain of presents under the table top tree was boggling. </p><p>“Whoa,” Lucy laughed.  “Merry Christmas to <em>you</em>, little pumpkin!”</p><p>Nadia smiled a gummy smile at her, and Roman feel a squeezing in his chest. </p><p>He met Lucy’s eyes.  There was something intense in them that forced her to look away.  Staring into them stopped her breath, and she was not going to allow that.  She hadn’t been a teenager in quite a while.  She wasn’t about to start acting like one now.</p><p>“I should go,” she said.  “You should have your Christmas morning.”</p><p>“Big plans?” he asked.</p><p>“I imagine I’ll be having a Christmas breakfast with some extremely hungover people at Destiny’s place before I go to bed.”</p><p>“Why don’t you stay?” he asked.  “Open presents with Nadia?  I could give Conway and Anna the morning off.  There are pastries and coffee.  Someone from the Tower sent a bottle of Prosecco.  It’s in the fridge.”</p><p>“Really?” she asked.  “Don’t you have big plans?”</p><p>“No,” he said.  His eyes looked somber now.  “Christmas is for family.”  He didn’t continue, but Lucy knew what he meant.  Christmas was for family, and he had none.  She knew the feeling.</p><p>She smiled softly.  “Okay,” she said.  “You start the coffee.”</p><p>His tension cooled to a low simmer.</p><p> </p><p>The morning was tiptoeing on the precipice of afternoon when Lucy put on her coat to leave.  She’d put Nadia down for a nap after the little one’s gift opening extravaganza.  The Cryptkeeper was with her in the baby-bunker. </p><p>The morning had been enchanting.  It seemed that Roman Claus had cleaned out every toy store in town.  But in the end, Nadia was more interested in the loose wrapping paper than anything else. </p><p>And, wonder of wonders, she’d actually heard Roman laugh. </p><p>Lucy was playing peek-a-boo with Nadia behind a new plush blanket, when Nadia let out a shrieking giggle.  It caught them both by surprise, and suddenly they were both laughing.  Lucy had begun to think didn’t he didn’t know how to laugh, and told him so through her chuckles.  His laugh was breathy and low, and she would listen to it on a loop if she could have.</p><p>He stood at the door with her while she put on her cap and gloves. </p><p>“Oh!” she said, reaching into her bag.  “I almost forgot!”  She brought out a modest box wrapped in red and green paper.  She handed it to Roman.  “Merry Christmas.”</p><p>“You got me a present?” he asked.  He lowered his head, and looked into her eyes from under his eyebrows, as if examining her.  “Trying to get a raise?”</p><p>“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” she said.  “It’s not much.  I mean, what <em>do</em> you get for the man who has everything, or can have it sent from Europe if he doesn’t.”</p><p>He smirked and tore through the paper, dropping in on the floor.  Conway would probably be stuck with the cleanup duty later.  He open the white paper box.  Inside, he found a scarf.  It was varying shades of black and gray in vertical stripes down the length.  He ran it between his fingers.  It was knitted, and the stitches were impeccably fine. </p><p>“It’s not my most exciting work,” she said, “but I wanted to coordinate it with the various and exotic shades of black in your wardrobe.”</p><p>“You <em>made</em> this for me?” he asked, dumbstruck.  Shelley was the last person to give him a homemade gift, and she’d been in grade school.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said, shrugging.  “I mean, I know it’s corny but…”</p><p>“No, it’s great,” he said.  He seemed nervous again.  He draped the scarf over his neck.  “Hang on,” he said, and disappeared for a moment.  He returned with a small box.  It was unwrapped.  “This is for you,” he said.  “I didn’t have it under the tree.  I thought you’d think that was a little assuming.”</p><p>“You didn’t have to do that,” Lucy said.  “But hand it over, boss-man.  I love presents.”</p><p>He laughed again.</p><p>She opened the box, and sucked in her breath.  Inside, was a bangle bracelet of hammered silver.  Laid into the cuff were two large stones, one aqua blue, and one green.  The design was asymmetrical and avant garde, and Lucy felt kicked in the guts by its beauty. </p><p>“It’s sea glass,” Roman said. </p><p>Lucy looked up at him.  She was astonished.  Roman smirked.  He looked like the cat that ate the canary.  She slapped his arm.</p><p>“Ow!” he said.  “You’re <em>welcome</em>!”</p><p>“This is too much!” she said.  “I can’t take this!”  She tried to push the box back into his hands.</p><p>He pushed it back to her.  His hands covered hers, and Lucy’s insides clenched.  “Take it,” he said.  His eyes held hers.  “I bought it for you.”</p><p>Lucy chewed her lip.  She was overwhelmed by the green deepness of his gaze.  She found herself suddenly looking at his rosy, plump mouth.  She wondered if those lips would feel as soft as they looked.  She shook herself.  Another second, and she would embarrass herself badly.  Roman was a grateful employer.  He appreciated all her work with Nadia.  That was all. </p><p>“Thank you,” she said, trying to hide how badly his nearness had flustered her.  “Merry Christmas, Roman.”</p><p>“Merry Christmas, Lucy,” he said, softly.</p><p>Lucy ducked out the door.  She found herself deep breathing all the way back to Destiny’s place.  By the time she arrived, she’d talked herself out of the belief that something deeper had happened between them that morning.  She was too old for him, too poor, too low, too chubby.  Believing (<em>hoping</em>) anything more would only leave her embarrassed and hurt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Baxtalo Nevo Berš</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>New Years Eve used to mean drinking himself blind on bourbon, bumping cocaine until he could break rocks with his teeth, picking up a leggy blonde, and getting his dick sucked. </p><p>This year, he only had the bourbon.</p><p>Lucy took the night off.  She was at a party with Destiny Rumancek.  Anna was upstairs with Nadia.</p><p>Roman was anxious, sullen, bitter.  The hunger was starting to dig its claws in.  He should drive to Pittsburgh, go to a club, get his Happy New Year blowjob.  It had to be better than chomping on raw prime rib alone in his kitchen, and swilling Maker’s Mark right out of the bottle.  But for reasons he didn’t want to understand, he had no desire to be fellated by some random at midnight.</p><p>He wanted to see her.  He didn’t even have to talk to her.  He just wanted to be in the room with her.  He actually fucking missed her.  She was his nanny, for fuck’s sake.  What was wrong with him?</p><p>Roman licked the blood that had collected on his plate.  It was 10:00 by his watch. </p><p>What was she wearing?  Did she wear a sexy dress for the New Years party or did she wear a stupid sweater with champagne glasses on it or something?  If she did dress sexy, who was it for?  Who was looking at her?  Could they see her tits?  Her round ass?  What greasy gypsy fuck would try to kiss her at midnight?  Would she let him?  Would she fuck him in Destiny’s guestroom?</p><p>He slammed his plate into the sink, and the china cracked in two. </p><p><em>She’ll make me break all my fucking dishes</em>, he thought.  <em>Fuck it.</em></p><p>He picked up his phone and scrolled to her number.  He texted:</p><p>R:  Where are you?</p><p>L:  Destiny’s place</p><p>R:  I’m coming over</p><p>L:  Really?  Ok great.  See you in a bit.</p><p>The “Ok great” should have calmed him, but nothing did.  Roman grabbed his keys and took the bourbon bottle with him.  Let the cops fucking <em>try</em> to pull him over.</p><p> </p><p>Roman could hear the music and noise from the end of the hall.  Someone was singing and he could hear an acoustic guitar, probably being played by some douchebag trying to score pussy.  It set his teeth on edge.  He hammered the door with his fist.  After a moment, Destiny opened the door.  She was in a little black dress with the cups of her bra showing.  She wore a red bindi jewel.</p><p>“Roman!” she said.  “What are you doing here?  I mean, you know, Happy New Year.  Why don’t you come in?”  Her words were welcoming, but her demeanor was defensive. </p><p>He stepped past her into the apartment.  It was packed with people drinking, smoking, laughing.  There was a break in the music.  One guitar song had ended and another was beginning.  He scanned the room for Lucy. </p><p>That’s when he heard her voice.</p><p>“Your aura’s got black streaks, Roman.  What the fuck is going on?” Destiny asked.</p><p>Lucy was singing.</p><p>She was sitting on the floor in a corner of the room, and she was singing.  True to his expectation, some gypsy douche was playing the acoustic guitar, but Roman barely noticed him.  She was singing “Creep” by Radiohead, and it was fucking beautiful.</p><p>The dragon inside him was still angry (and hungry), but even it stopped to listen.</p><p>
  <em>When you were here before</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Couldn’t look you in the eye</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re just like an angel</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your skin makes me cry…</em>
</p><p>She was looking down at her knees at first, stage fright pushing her eyes down.  But when she started the first chorus, she looked up at the people sitting closest to her, a sheepish half-smile on her lips. </p><p>That movement, that squeezing in his chest was back.  Her voice.  Goddamn it, it was like her voice was worming its way inside him. </p><p>She was more confident now, her voice a loud, strong belt.  And in the middle of the second verse, she saw him.  Her eyes widened and lit up, and they stayed with him as she sang.</p><p>
  <em>I want a perfect body</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want a perfect soul</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want you to notice when I’m not around</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re so fuckin special</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish I was special…</em>
</p><p>No one was talking now.  Every eye in the room was on her, including Roman’s.  And when she began the bridge after the last chorus, it was like his heart was vibrating.  She was belting, her mouth wide, her eyes closed, and Roman’s mind felt like it had when he’d tried to mesmerize himself in the mirror before.  Only it seemed that everyone else in the room, Destiny included, was feeling it as well.  Lucy held them all in the hollow of her hand.</p><p>When she finally finished, there was silence in the room for a moment before the spell broke and the entire party burst into ardent applause.  Lucy shrugged and covered her eyes with one hand; she did a shooing gesture with the other. </p><p>“Ok, I’m done, I’m done,” she said.  There were several voices begging for an encore, but she shushed them. </p><p>Lucy jumped up from the floor and came toward him, trying to get away from the crowd of music lovers. </p><p>She wasn’t in a sexy dress.  She was in jeans and low cut black t-shirt.  And he could see the fullness of her breasts where her neckline dipped, the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips.  And she was wearing her red lipstick, and he wondered what it would look like smeared on his cock.  And she was wearing the bangle he gave her.  And she smiled that explosive smile.  And goddamn it, he could <em>smell</em> her rose perfume, and he wondered if she smelled like that <em>everywhere</em>.  And he could fucking <em>hear</em> her heartbeat, even over the din. </p><p>He was losing his fucking mind.</p><p>“Roman!” she said.  “You’re here!”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“And you brought… A half empty bottle of booze.  Festive.”  She smirked at him. </p><p>“That was,… Your voice…  It was fucking incredible.” He sounded like a fucking lunatic.</p><p>“Oh God.”  She put her hands over her eyes again.  “Shandor made me.”</p><p>“Who’s Shandor?”  The dragon bellowed at the door again.</p><p>“One of Destiny’s friends; the one with the guitar.  You want a glass for that?”  Lucy nodded to his bottle.</p><p>“No,” Roman said, looking positively predatory.  “Tonight I’m a fucking savage.”  He took a long swig, never taking his eyes from Lucy.</p><p>If noise in the room hadn’t been there, Lucy was sure he would have heard her gulp.</p><p> </p><p>Roman finished the bottle in under an hour.  Lucy sipped champagne and kept a wary eye on him.  She didn’t like the feeling that was coming off of him right now.  He was too much like a cat with its dander up.  He was definitely drunk, there was no question about that, but it wasn’t a fun drunk.  He looked like he was ready to fight or fuck someone.  Probably both.  Simultaneously. </p><p>“Everyone!” Destiny announced.  “Here we go!  10!  9!  8!...”</p><p>The room took up the countdown, their voices building to a cacophony. </p><p>“3!  2! 1!  Baxtalo Nevo Berš!  Happy New Year!” </p><p>Cheers erupted.  Strangers and friends shared kisses and embraces.  Destiny threw her arms around Lucy and planted a smacking kiss on her cheek.  “Baxtalo Nevo Berš, Lucika!”</p><p>“Happy New Year!” Lucy giggled.  Destiny was off to liplock a man Lucy <em>thought</em> was named Manfri.</p><p>She turned back to greet Roman, and his mouth smashed against hers. </p><p>She gasped against him.  He wasn’t kissing her so much as attacking her mouth.  His long arms crushed her to him, one hand sliding into her hair at the base of her neck.  His other hand was splayed at the small of her back.  His lips were bruising, punishing hers.  Roman opened his mouth against hers, his tongue sliding between her lips and over her teeth.  She could taste his bourbon and cigarettes, the smoky caramel of him.  Every nerve was on fire.  A dull ache throbbed low within her.  Roman backed her into the kitchen counter and ground his hips against her stomach.  She could feel the hard length of him pressing into her.  Lucy buried her fists in his shirt and pushed him away, gasping for air.</p><p>Roman stared at her, panting, open-mouthed.  His pupils were blown wide.  Her red lipstick was smeared over his mouth.  It looked positively indecent, bloody even.</p><p>“Happy New Year!” a party goer called to them, chuckling.</p><p>Lucy seized Roman’s arm and dragged him through the front door of Destiny’s apartment and into the hallway.  She slammed the door behind them, and pushed Roman, hard.</p><p>“What the hell was that?!” she seethed.</p><p>“That was a kiss,” he said.</p><p>She rolled her eyes.  “I know, asshole.  Why?”</p><p>“Because I wanted to,” he said.  He stalked toward her like a fucking tiger.  Lucy backed against the door, feeling the way the antelope must feel before the big cat pounces.  “And don’t tell me that you didn’t want it to.”  He was inches from her now.</p><p>“Roman, you’re drunk.”  Lucy placed a hand on his chest to stop him.  She could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the sleek contours of his torso.  “You’re drunk, and you’re restless, and you don’t really want this.”</p><p>“The fuck I don’t,” he said.  He snatched her dangling hand and pressed it on his crotch where he was still hard and raging.  “Does this feel like I don’t?”</p><p>Lucy pulled her hand away as if she’d been burned.  “Jesus!” she whispered.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”</p><p>“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shot back.  “You know, I don’t usually have to explain myself when I want to fuck someone.”</p><p>“Roman, how old are you?” Lucy asked, matter of factly.</p><p>“What?” he asked.</p><p>“How.  Old.  Are.  You?” she repeated.</p><p>“Eighteen,” he replied.  “How old are you?”</p><p>Lucy hesitated a moment.  “I was twenty-nine on my last birthday.”</p><p>“Perfect,” he growled through clenched teeth.  “We could play babysitter or naughty teacher.  I’ll call you Mommy if you want to call me Daddy.”</p><p>“You’re fucking disgusting,” Lucy fumed.  “Roman, you could have any girl.  And Destiny tells me you’ve <em>had</em> most of them around here already.  You’ve got an itch to scratch.  You want to get off, and you don’t care who it’s with.  Well, that’s not me.  And I’m not going to be responsible for your beer goggle reaction in the morning.  Not when I see you almost every night.”</p><p>“You’re right,” Roman snarled.  “Why would I want to fuck a big-ass nanny pushing thirty when I could find a Kate Moss blonde who’d be only too happy to ride my cock and say thank you afterwards.”</p><p>Lucy’s voice was a furious whisper.  “Fuck you, Roman.  If it weren’t for Nadia…”  She took a breath, steading herself.  “Sleep it off, Roman.  Maybe I’ll see you on Monday.”</p><p>She turned and went back through Destiny’s door, slamming it in his face.</p><p>Roman was enraged.  Who the fuck did she think she was?  She was nothing special.  Nothing.  He should go back to Maui, back to Healani who’d never said no to anything, not even when he fucked her doggy-style in an open cabana on the beach where everyone could see.  He needed to get back to the old Roman, not the candy-ass he’d become, begging for scraps from someone he never would have lowered himself to pursue even a year ago.</p><p>It was time to get back to normal.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So Roman's mean streak rears its ugly head.  I'm now at the point where the actual episodes of Season 2 begin, so the chapters from here on out will have scenes and plot points from the show's canon.  </p><p>I hope anyone reading this is enjoying it.  Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think.  I'm happy to any improvement suggestions.</p><p>Thanks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Under Pressure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Monday.</p><p> </p><p>Reception didn’t know what to make of him when strolled in in his new suit.  There were several “Welcome back, Mr. Godfreys,” and lot stammering and nervous shuffling. </p><p>Trevor, his assistant looked positively shocked and awed.  “Mr. Godfrey!” he exclaimed.  “We didn’t know you’d be here today!  Welcome back!” </p><p>“Dedicated to the job.  That’s me,” Roman deadpanned.  “Agenda?”</p><p>“Um, you have a board meeting at 9:00.”</p><p>“Fine,” Roman said.  “I want the financials and product reports for last quarter on my desk in twenty minutes.  And I want a double espresso.  I’ll be in my office.”  He turned and walked away.</p><p>Trevor let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.  The king was back.  Long live the king.</p><p> </p><p>The horrified looks on the faces of the ancient, stringent, traditionalist board members as he shared topless photos of Healani and reminisced about fucking her were just too satisfying.  Roman felt a little like himself again.  And publicly skewering Pryce like the worm he was, was simply icing on the fuck you cake.  If Dr. Fuckenstein was still helping Olivia, then it was Roman’s sacred fucking <em>duty</em> to keep him in check. </p><p>And it didn’t hurt that the schadenfreude was currently outweighing the hunger clawing at his insides.  He had a feeding plan he hoped would work.  There was a lecherous old man with a serious oxy problem he’d be visiting after he left the office.  The guy had told him he wasn’t above doing a little sucking for the cash, so he didn’t mind being sucked <em>on</em> either.  Maybe the leeches, those little black middle men, latched onto the old man would filter some of the oxy from his blood.  Roman didn’t relish the idea of driving high in the middle of the afternoon.</p><p>In the end, he devoured more than half of the leeches at once, and it barely took the edge off his hunger.  At least he didn’t get stoned.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy wouldn’t quit.  She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.  And she wouldn’t leave Nadia.  But Jesus fuck, did she dread seeing Roman. </p><p>She’d heard he could be cruel, that he had a hair-trigger temper.  Destiny had even relayed to her some of his more shocking exploits that circled the Hemlock Grove rumor mill.  But the fire in his eyes on New Year’s Night was so much more than she’d anticipated. </p><p>Roman hadn’t kissed her, so much as pummeled her mouth with his.  There was lust in it, sure.  The speed of her heart, the flush of her skin, and that swollen, throbbing feeling between her legs told her that.  And holy shit, the rock-hard feel of him pressed against her was astonishing.  But there was also anger. </p><p>Lucy was actually afraid of him for the flicker of a second, and that was when she’d pushed him away.  When she could finally get some oxygen to her brain, she remembered that he was Roman Godfrey, and she was Lucika Hennigar, and he didn’t, <em>couldn’t</em> have feelings for her.  He was agitated about something, God knew what.  He wanted to fuck someone, anyone, and she was just a convenient body.  And why not?  She’d just about signed her soul away with all of his NDAs.  If you were going to dip in the company ink, what better employee to fuck than a gagged one? </p><p>She felt so stupid.  Of course, she wanted him.  Who wouldn’t?  And surely he noticed that.  She was an easy target.  And after he got what he wanted, she’d go back to being the help.  Like the Cryptkeeper.  And if she got hurt, it didn’t really matter all that much.  She was a big-assed nanny pushing thirty. </p><p>The enmity in his eyes when he said that hurt, badly. </p><p>It shouldn’t have.  After all, wasn’t the truth about her much worse?  Just because his mother was upir… Or maybe that only exacerbated things.</p><p>And then there was Nadia.  Lucy loved her.  Looking into her blue on blue eyes filled Lucy’s heart nearly to bursting.  No, she would stay for Nadia.</p><p>She was so confused.  Christmas had been like a dream.  It felt like having a family, like she’d always wanted.  But she was projecting, wasn’t she?  Seeing what she wanted to see. </p><p>Destiny had a talk with her over coffee on New Year’s morning.  They whispered around the crystal ball, while the party goers snoozed on every piece of furniture and open spot on the floor.</p><p>“There’s good in his heart,” Destiny said, “but there’s also a lot of darkness.  Even more darkness than the last time I saw him, before Lynda and Peter left.  You have to understand, his mother is like a walking black hole.  She sucks out the light and leaves only pain behind.  I don’t know if Roman could be the same, but remember half of him comes from her.  Be careful.”</p><p>Lucy nodded, feeling hollow.</p><p>“Listen, I’m kicking everyone out of here in a few.  I’m leaving in the morning,” Destiny said. </p><p>“Where are you going?”</p><p>“Ohio.  Gypsy funeral.  It’s a whole thing.  I should be seeing Lynda and Peter, though.  I’ll let them know you’re here.  If you need anything while I’m gone, call me okay?”</p><p>This morning Destiny called <em>her</em>.  Lynda had been arrested in Ohio and was being extradited back to Pennsylvania.  Destiny was bringing Peter with her back to Hemlock Grove.  She wanted Lucy to meet him.  Could she come by the house for dinner tonight?</p><p>Lucy agreed.  Anything to put off going to Roman’s house a little longer. </p><p>She hung up, called Mr. Conway, and settled into her plush chair in the trailer with her breast pump. </p><p>She’d take a nap after The Price Is Right.</p><p> </p><p>Roman sat on the sofa, elbows planted on his knees and his head in his hands.</p><p>“Mr. Godrey?” Conway approached.</p><p>“What?!” Roman snapped.</p><p>“Lucy says that she won’t be here to care for the baby until midnight tonight,” he replied, robotic.</p><p>“Fine,” Roman snarled.  “Tell Anna she’ll have a longer day, then.  Thank you.”</p><p>Conway turned and walked away.</p><p>And the fucking hits just kept on coming. </p><p>Motherfucking Peter Rumancek came to his house.  After months of nothing, not even a postcard, he had the audacity to show up, flash his sad puppy eyes, and ask for $20,000.  Begging.  Begging like the fucking dog that he was. </p><p>He’d disappeared, left Roman to bury Letha, and to carry the enormity was what he now was alone.</p><p>Fuck Peter. </p><p>And fuck Lynda too.  After all, wasn’t she the one who packed the car and headed for the horizon?</p><p>And fuck Destiny and all those gypsy trash people.</p><p>And now Lucy was going to try and punish him too?  Well, fuck her too. </p><p>Pittsburgh.  He’d drive down to Pittsburgh tonight.  He’d fuck a random, a gorgeous one in a sexy dress.  He’d fuck her so hard she’d have trouble walking afterward.</p><p>Roman was so angry, his eyes were watering.  That was the only reason.  It was fucking fury.  It was absolutely not tears.</p><p> </p><p>Dinner at Destiny’s house had been fine, but Peter looked terrible.  He was shaking, sweating, and his eyes were as red-rimmed as any junkie Lucy had ever seen.  Destiny said he’d been “hanging with friends” earlier in the evening and was probably coming down with something.  Lucy knew a lie when she heard one, especially given the worried look in Destiny's eyes, but said nothing. </p><p>They talked about Lynda, and about the lady lawyer they’d hired, about the $20,000 retainer they now had.  They also talked about how they had no way to continue paying her if the case should drag out.</p><p>“Fucking, Roman,” Peter seethed.</p><p>Destiny shot Lucy a look.  “Roman Godfrey?  What’s he got to do with this?” Lucy asked.</p><p>Peter relayed what had happened earlier today.  How he’d asked for the money and Roman turned him down flat.  When Lucy probed further, Destiny said:  “Peter and Roman were friends, best friends.  They both lost someone very special last year.  It broke both their hearts.  That was when Lynda and Peter left town.  I think Roman felt abandoned.”</p><p>“Her name was Letha,” Peter said.  He sounded gutted.</p><p>Lucy knew the story was infinitely more complicated than that.  One look at the deep pain in Peter’s eyes told her that, but she didn’t press the issue.  She changed the subject.</p><p>“What about me?” Lucy said.  “For more money, I mean.  Lynda sent me that letter to go forward with her little business venture.  You said Olivia Godfrey’s still around, right?  And she agreed to $5000 a pop?”</p><p>“Word is, she’s still in the hospital after some kind of seizure,” Destiny replied. </p><p>“But that’s bullshit, right?” Lucy said.  “Upirs don’t get sick like that, do they?”</p><p>“No,” said Peter.  “Who knows why she’s there?  But she never tried to get in touch with Mom about her supply.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you guys weren’t exactly in the yellow pages,” Lucy said.  “Maybe we could reach out to her?  See if she’s still interested?”</p><p>“It can’t be you,” Peter said.  “You can’t get anywhere near her, or you’ll end up sucked dry in a ditch somewhere.  Besides, we’ve only got a few bottles left and no way to make more, now that Nicholae is gone.”</p><p>“No,” Destiny said, “that’s not entirely true.  I have his grimoire.  I could give it a try.”</p><p>“What could it hurt?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“Well, you, for one,” Peter said.</p><p>“No pain no gain, right?” Lucy said with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>Roman was home.  He was sober.  He was hungry.  And he was terrified.</p><p>He was ready to kill that girl.  It was in him to do it, the desire to tear at that spot where he could see the vein pulse and hear the thrumming of her heart.  What if hadn’t stopped himself?</p><p>He’d gone to that club for pussy, and found her.  She was wearing a red fuck-me dress and heels.  She looked bored, like a porn star before the clothes came off.  She played right along with him with no hesitation, but also no banter, no wit, and no regard for the poor guy that she was with.  He spoke less than ten sentences to her, knocked her date unconscious, and she was ready to come home with him.  She like an anti-Lucy.</p><p>Roman was thinking off all the things he was going to do to her, loudly.  And then she’d turned to him, told him how wet she was, and grabbed a handful of his cock.  And he could fucking <em>hear</em> the blood swirling in her veins, and his jaw ached to sink into her flesh.</p><p>And then he noticed that her eyes were the same shade of brown as <em>hers</em>.  And he thought about when he forced <em>her</em> to put her hand on his cock and she’d called him disgusting.</p><p>He <em>was</em> disgusting.</p><p>Roman whipped the car off the road and booted the bitch out. </p><p><em>Be pissed</em>, he thought.  <em>I just saved your fucking life.</em></p><p>He sighed as he pressed the keypad outside of Nadia’s room.  When he opened the door, he found Anna, convivial as ever.</p><p>“It’s been another very long day, Mr. Godfrey,” she said.</p><p>“You can go,” he replied.  “Lucy will be here soon.”</p><p>He walked into Nadia’s room.  She stared up at him curiously from her crib, watching him as he paced.  Should he hold her?  Did he want to?  He had to find a way to get the hunger under control.  What if he hurt her?  She was quite literally the only family he had left.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy knocked on the door just before midnight, and it was Roman who answered the door.</p><p>“Hey,” he whispered.  The only word Lucy to think of to describe his face was, <em>haunted</em>.</p><p>“Hey,” she replied, walking past him into the house.  “Are you alright?”</p><p>He laughed mirthlessly, brokenly, and shook his head.  “I ruin your New Year, and you’re worried about <em>me</em>?”</p><p>“Roman…” Lucy sighed.  She wasn’t sure how to begin.  “Let me check on Nadia.  I’ll come back down when she’s asleep.  If you want, we can talk.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he replied.</p><p> </p><p>When Lucy descended the steps, Roman was sitting on the couch, a glass of bourbon in hand.  He looked up at her.  “Want one?” he asked.</p><p>Lucy shook her head.  She sat down on the sofa, leaving plenty of space between them.</p><p>“So,” she began, “how was your day?”</p><p>Roman actually snorted into his glass.  Lucy smiled softly.  He set his glass on the table and turned to her.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I was an asshole.”</p><p>“Yep,” Lucy said, popping the “p.”</p><p>He smiled softly.  Even though she’d agreed with him, he looked like a small weight had lifted.  “You were right,” he continued.  “I was restless and angry.  I don’t even know why.  Well, no, I know why, it’s just stupid and pointless.  What I’m trying to say is I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”</p><p>“It hurt,” Lucy said.  “I can’t lie about that.”  A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she looked at him flabbergasted.  “No one ever says no to you, do they?”</p><p>He snorted.  “Is it that obvious?”</p><p>“Roman, you’re young, but you’re not a kid.  Not at all.  You can do what you like, act however you want, but I’m not a doormat, okay?  I’m not a slave or a blow-up doll.  You can’t treat me like shit and expect me to stick around.  You made a mistake.  I get it.  I forgive you.  Please don’t make me regret it.”</p><p>He nodded. </p><p>“Roman, I want you to level with me, okay?” Lucy turned to face him and looked into his eyes.  “Who is Nadia?  Why do you have her in a sound proofed room?  Tell me the truth.”</p><p>Roman looked scared, and but also looked beaten down.  “She’s mine,” he said.</p><p>There was no surprise on Lucy’s face.</p><p>“It was an unplanned pregnancy.  Her mother died in childbirth.  I’m trying to be a father.  Obviously, not a very good one, but… I have to keep her hidden.  Do you know anything about my mother?”</p><p>Lucy nodded but said nothing</p><p>“She’s insane.  If she found out about Nadia, she’d try to hurt her.  I can’t let that happen.  I want to protect her but…”  Roman shook his head.  “My daughter and I…  I don’t know how…”  He stopped, sighed and looked at Lucy.  “I’m terrified,” he said.</p><p>“You’re trying, Roman,” Lucy said.  “That’s what counts.  I saw you with her on Christmas morning.  You love her, even if <em>you</em> don’t know it yet.  You’re a good person, Roman.  Believe it,” she said.  She smiled warmly.  “And I want us to be friends.  Okay?”</p><p>“No,” he said.</p><p>“What?” Lucy said.</p><p>“I don’t want us to be friends.”</p><p>“Oh, okay,” Lucy replied, trying not to show her hurt.  So she was just the nanny after all.</p><p>Roman reached out and took her hand.  “I’m sorry for hurting you.  I don’t want to do that.  But I’m not sorry for kissing you.  I wanted to.  I didn’t want anyone else to.  If I’m honest, I want to do it again right now.”</p><p>Lucy’s eyes were the size of dinner plates.  “What?  I…” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.  Her heart felt and tasted like it was somewhere at the back of her tongue.</p><p>“But I won’t,” he said.  “ I won’t kiss you.”</p><p>“I’m so confused right now,” she said.</p><p>“You’re kind,” he said.  “I haven’t met many actually kind people.  Every day that you come here, I look forward to seeing you.  I don’t look forward to seeing anyone.  And you’re beautiful.”</p><p>“Roman, I know what I am,” Lucy said, shaking her head.  “That’s not a word for me.”</p><p>“Hey,” he said, taking her chin between his thumb and fingers.  “I know what I see.”</p><p>Lucy could feel her blush.  She had to be as red as the lips on her Stones t-shirt.  Her heart simultaneously wanted to stop and leap out of her chest onto the coffee table.</p><p>“And, yeah, I want you,” he continued.  “But I want to give you time to trust me.  So, I’m not going to kiss you right now.  I won’t kiss you without asking,... only if you give me permission… or if you ask me to.”</p><p>Lucy’s smile bloomed on her face, growing wider until she again had to bite her lip to hold it in place.  Roman smiled back at her.</p><p>“Okay,” Lucy said.</p><p>They were silent for a while, holding hands, holding the moment.  Finally, Lucy reached over and finished Roman’s last swig of bourbon right out of his glass.  Surprised laughter bubbled out of Roman. </p><p>“Needed that,” she said.  She was thankful to break the tension.  “Wanna watch a movie?”</p><p>“Sure,” he said. </p><p>“Sweet talker,” she teased.  “Did you rehearse that speech?”</p><p>“Only about seven or eight times.”  He chuckled, but he didn’t let go of her hand for a long time.</p><p>He’d never done that before, relaxing, watching a movie, holding someone’s hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dreamers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman felt so fucking good.  He felt calm, sated, powerful. </p><p>He’d been starving when he arrived at the motel, shaking, and sweating.  The leeches weren’t cutting it.  The raw meat wasn’t cutting it.  There was only one thing that could stop the raging hunger, and the thought of it revolted him.  He couldn’t stay in the house, not with Nadia or Lucy there.  If he heard their heartbeats one more time, he didn’t know if he could control himself.</p><p>He picked up Nadine from her usual corner and drove to the motel. </p><p>Everything about what was happening felt wrong.  The loud, grainy porn on the television, Nadine’s bruises, her wig, her nipples, the ashtray smell of her, everything was vile.  He didn’t want to look at her face.  He turned her and forced her to sit in his lap.  He tried to be the old Roman again for a moment, cupping her breast, licking her neck, trying to be the Roman who didn’t care, trying to be the Roman that used and took and had no guilt. </p><p>But he couldn’t.  He thought of Nadia’s eyes, of Lucy’s smile, and he shoved Nadine to the floor.</p><p>Then Davy arrived, bent on retaining his old regular customer.  Roman listened to him drone on about his girls, and all the vulgar things they were willing to do for him.  Roman’s mind was on what to do about his hunger, not his cock. </p><p>And then Davy mentioned having an underage runaway. </p><p>Jesus Christ.  Roman’s stomach turned.  How old was she?  Where was her family?  What if something like that ever happened to Nadia?</p><p>And then there was no more decision to be made.  He pounced on Davy like a lion, his jaws clamping, his teeth tearing through the flesh down down down to the place where the blood, oh the sweet hot blood, spurted into his mouth in a fount.  Roman sucked, swallowed, chewed, tore, oh God, it was heaven.  Until at last that raging dragon, its belly finally full, retreated within him. </p><p>He pulled away from Davy’s throat, spitting out a piece of flesh and chewing down the rest.  He made a compress from a pillowcase and pressed it to Davy’s throat. </p><p>Fuck, he felt amazing.  And he didn’t even have to waste his cigarette.</p><p>It wouldn’t last though, and he knew it.  After all, how many human traffickers and abusive husbands were there in the world?  And how long could he go before one of them led back to him?</p><p> </p><p>Olivia, that fucking manipulative cunt, said the same thing to him two days later when she actually <em>showed up</em> in his office as if she belonged anywhere within a mile of him.  She talked as if she had all the answers to his hunger problem.  And what would it be this time, he wondered?  Draining Nadia like before?  Stealing babies like a goddamn fairy tale monster?  With her, it could be anything. </p><p>He’d set himself on fire before he’d accept help from Olivia.  Everything that left her lips was a lie.  She lived and breathed manipulation, and probably pissed and shit it too.  No matter what she did, she would <em>never</em> get her hands on Nadia.  Never. </p><p>He killed her once.  He could do it again.</p><p> </p><p>Roman went straight home from the office.  The run-in with Olivia had spooked him.  He needed to see Nadia, make sure she was alright. </p><p>His heart jumped when he opened the soundproof door to her room.  She was screaming.  Oh God, what if Olivia…</p><p>He ran into the room, and found only Nadia.  She was standing in her crib, angrily wailing, her face red, her cheeks streaked with tears.  Roman approached her, looking into her eyes.  She only cried louder.  He jumped back.  Did he make it worse?  What was wrong?</p><p>Anna appeared from the nanny room with a bottle.  “You should hold her,” she said in her hollow voice.</p><p>“Make her stop,” Roman replied.  He was panicked.  <em>He</em> couldn’t hold her.  He hadn’t really figured out how.  What if he dropped her?  What if he hurt her?</p><p>“She’s been crying all day,” Anna replied.</p><p>“Maybe she’s hungry,” he offered.</p><p>“She won’t take the formula.”</p><p>“Try a<em> different</em> one!”</p><p>“I’ve tried them all,” Anna replied, annoyed, but with him or with Nadia, Roman couldn’t tell.</p><p>“Well, <em>Lucy</em> seems to have figured out a way!  How does <em>she</em> do it?!”</p><p>“Why don’t you ask her?” Anna retorted.  “You’re very chummy.”</p><p>Roman ignored her.  He was too anxious to deal with her snide remarks when Nadia was this distraught.</p><p>“Where does she get the energy to cry this much?” He was worried.  She wasn’t eating.  Was she in pain?  What if she was sick?  Who could he go to?  The rising panic was turning his insides into a tornado.</p><p>“I used to ask the same thing about you,” Anna said.  “Never happy.  Your entire family.  Maybe it’s some kind of curse.”</p><p>The bottom dropped in Roman’s stomach. </p><p>He was like this too.  And Nadia was born with a caul.  Jesus H. Christ.  She really <em>was</em> upir, like him.  What had he done?  What was he going to do?</p><p>And then Anna twisted the knife.  “And why each of you seems to end up alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucy was in bed at 4:00pm, napping in the trailer before going to Roman’s house for the night.  It was something she did often, as she may or may not get any sleep on the nanny sofa.  If Roman was home, she’d spend time with him until midnight or so, when Nadia needed to be fed. </p><p>Although asleep, Lucy was restless.  She tossed, shifted, moaned… dreamed.</p><p>
  <em>A white mask like a blank doll’s face</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rushing water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A broken porcelain doll</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A neon sign like a covered wagon</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Words in neon – Gone Sis</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rushing water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A gunshot</em>
</p><p>She jerked awake, breathing hard.  Her ears were ringing, as if the gunshot were real, and had gone off right next to her head. </p><p>And suddenly, there was another ringing.  Her phone.  Lucy fumbled it from nightstand with trembling hands.  It was Roman.  She swiped and pressed it to her ear.</p><p>“Hey,” she said, trying to sound neither sleepy nor shaky.</p><p>“Hey,” he replied.  “Can you come to the house early tonight?  Nadia won’t stop crying, and she’s not eating and nothing Anna is doing is working.  You’re so much better with her.  Do you think…” He trailed off.</p><p>“Yeah,” Lucy said.  “Yeah, no problem.  Just give me a few, okay?  I’ll be there.”</p><p>“Okay,” he replied.  She could hear the relief in his voice.  It was endearing.</p><p>She hung up and tried to get her bearings.  That dream.  Dreams were nothing new for her, but this one was different.  It was as if every image were present <em>with</em> her, as if she could reach out and touch the shattered doll.  She could hear the buzzing of the neon signs.  She should smell the gunpowder.  </p><p>And the water.  The water sang to her.  She could always feel the water calling, somewhere in a deep point inside her chest, but the water in the dream filled her heart, her lungs.  It vibrated in her nerves.  She could still feel the ghost of it in her teeth and behind her eyes.  The water sang of death and pain.  Something was very wrong.  She needed to talk to Destiny.</p><p>Lucy would text her later, or maybe call her in the morning.  She needed to go to Roman’s and see what she could do for Nadia. </p><p>Lucy ran her hands through her hair, as if to brush away the cobwebs of the vision.  She climbed out of bed and grabbed her leggings from the floor.  She hated sleeping in pants.  She slid them up over her panties and went to the kitchen.  She opened the fridge.  There were four filled baby bottles there.  She grabbed them all at once, shutting the refrigerator door with her hip.  She put the bottles in her bag, and stepped into her Chuck Taylors without bothering to tie them. She mentally went through her checklist:  keys, phone, bag, coat, hat, gloves, check.  She locked the door of the trailer behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Roman looked like he was charged with electricity. </p><p>“Here,” Lucy said, showing him the bottles, “I made these up for Nadia.  I’m pretty sure she’ll take these.  I’m on the case.”  She was up the stairs before Roman had a chance to reply.</p><p>Nadia’s angry screams rolled out of her door when Lucy opened it.  She jogged to the crib and immediately picked up the baby. </p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Lucy cooed, bouncing her softly, rubbing her back.  “You’re okay.  Oh my goodness.  <em>Someone’s</em> not happy.  You hungry, pumpkin?” </p><p>Nadia was still crying, but the cries softened a bit.</p><p>Cryptkeeper Anna glared at her from the nanny room.  “Mr. Godfrey didn’t have to call you,” she said, sullenly.  “She’s been like this all day.  I don’t how you being here makes any difference.”</p><p>“Well, I’m here now,” Lucy said.  “Here.”  She handed the bottles to Anna.  “Put these in the little fridge in there.  Try one of those the next time.  I’ll take over now.  You can go.”</p><p>The Cryptkeeper continued to glare for a moment before she took the bottles from Lucy’s hands.  She disappeared into the nanny room.  When she returned, she stormed out with a huff, but without another word.  She closed the door behind her.</p><p>Lucy carried Nadia to the rocker and sat down to cuddle her.  “Boy, is <em>she</em> a bitch,” she said to Nadia in her best, friendly baby voice.  “She didn’t even cuddle you when you were sad, did she?  Well, we’re okay now.  Alright pumpkin, let’s eat.”  Lucy began unbuttoning her top.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost seven by the time Nadia fell asleep.  Lucy left the door to her baby-bunker open and came down the stairs.  Something in the kitchen smelled absolutely incredible.</p><p>The dining table was lined with little votive candles.  Roman had two place settings ready for dinner with a bottle of wine between them.  He looked up at her when he heard her stocking feet on the stairs.  He smirked.  “I hope you’re hungry.”</p><p>Lucy could feel her smile trying to split her cheeks.  “Starved,” she said.  “And here I was thinking we’d be stuck calling for pizza.”</p><p>“Perish the thought,” he replied.</p><p>Roman presented her seat, even pushed her chair in for her.  “Well hello, Mister Chivalry!” she joked. </p><p>He winked at her, and Lucy felt an instant jolt in her heart and… other places.  She cleared her throat, hoping he couldn’t see her blush.  “Nadia fell asleep earlier than usual.  Poor thing was exhausted from getting herself so worked up.”</p><p>“You are a goddamn miracle worker,” he replied.</p><p>“No,” Lucy said.  “I just think the Cryptkeeper doesn’t have an affectionate bone her body.”</p><p>“The Cryptkeeper?”</p><p>“Oh,” Lucy grimaced, caught.  “It’s what I always think of when I see Anna.  She’s… she’s not exactly… well, she’s…”</p><p>“A bitch with the emotional range of a corpse?”</p><p>“Shhhhh!” Lucy said, looking around.  “I didn’t say that.”</p><p>“Don’t worry.  She’s gone.  So is Conway.  I gave them the night off.”</p><p>“Oh,” Lucy said.  </p><p>Roman plated their dinner, bacon-wrapped filet mignon with vegetables, and poured wine. </p><p>“You cooked?” Lucy asked, amazed.</p><p>Roman leveled his eyes at her.  “Do you really think I know how to cook?”</p><p>“Right.  Touche,” she replied.  “Well, you’re a wonderful play-layer and bottle-opener.”</p><p>“We all have our talents,” he chuckled.</p><p>The food was absolutely divine.  Roman kept chuckling at her little mmms and oh-my-Gods.  At one point, Lucy took a sip of her wine, tipped her head back, and let out a long, gravely sigh.</p><p>“You sound like Shelley,” he said.  The moment the words left his lips, his smile was gone.</p><p>“That’s your sister, right?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” he whispered.</p><p>“Destiny told me.  She’s still missing,” Lucy said.  It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>They looked at the each other in silence for a moment.  Lucy took his hand, running her thumb over his knuckles.  Roman’s eyes grew soft, and Lucy was suddenly, painfully, aware that he wasn’t used to a simple gesture of comfort without an expectation or agenda behind it.  What the fuck kind of life had he had?</p><p>“I don’t have family, either,” Lucy said.  “My folks died a long time ago.  I know that empty feeling.  It’s okay.”</p><p>He smiled at her, but his eyes looked almost befuddled, as if she were something strange and exotic he’d never seen before.  The look cleared, and he raised his eyebrows at her.  “How long do you think she’ll sleep?” he asked, nodding to the stairs.</p><p>“Oh, a couple of hours, at least,” Lucy replied.  “Why?”</p><p>“You wanna see something brilliant?” he asked.</p><p>A few minutes later they were in a heated barn nestled in the trees behind the house.  All ofhe stalls inside were empty, save for one.  There, stood a gorgeous black mare, a racing thoroughbred.  Lucy’s breath caught. </p><p>“Hey, Beautiful Dreemer,” Roman whispered to the mare, petting her mane.  “Do you ride?” he asked Lucy.</p><p>“Oh, God, it’s been a <em>long</em> time,” Lucy said.  “But we’re talking cart horses, nothing like this.  I can’t believe this.  She’s so beautiful.”  Lucy ran hands over the horse’s back.  She was so sleek, like she was made of silk. </p><p>“You’re ridiculous,” she mused at Roman.</p><p>“What?” he chuckled. </p><p>“You’re like Lord Byron’s wet dream.”</p><p>“Whoever that is has good taste in men,” he retorted.</p><p>“You should sue your school,” Lucy said with mock indignation.  “I am both shocked and appalled at your literary ineptitude.”</p><p>“Rich man need small words,” Roman spoke like a caveman.</p><p>Lucy grinned.  “Lord Byron was a poet.  Around 1819, he invented a new type of literary character.  A man who was arrogant, intelligent, cold on the outside, but on the inside burning with passion.  Like Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights.”</p><p>“Now that, I do remember,” he said.  “Broody guy.  Goes scorched Earth on everyone who pulled his best girl away, including the best girl.”</p><p>“Yeah, but she was a piece of work too,” Lucy said. </p><p>She turned from the horse, and noticed how close Roman was.  He had moved closer as she was talking, and was now inches from her, not touching her.  His eyes were intense.  It felt like she was drowning in them.  Her heart leapt.  Her breath stuttered.  She swallowed and continued to speak.  “In the story, Cathy, the best girl, said:  ‘Whatever our souls are made out of, his and mine are the same.’”</p><p>Roman’s eyes moved down to her mouth, and Lucy tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.  “Roman?” she breathed.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“If I asked you to kiss me now,…”</p><p>She never finished the sentence.  Roman’s leather gloved hands cupped her cheeks, and he kissed her, slowly, softly.  His hands were so large that the tips of his fingers slipped into her hair.  His lips were so very very soft, as she imagined they would be, pressing, clasping, sliding over hers.  It was so unlike his kiss on New Year’s Eve.  That kiss was like an attack.  This kiss was like a prayer.  Lucy felt like she was sinking, falling.  Her hands slid around his middle, under his leather jacket, wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself closer to him.  His skin was so warm through his shirt, and she could feel the curved planes of his back.  She opened her mouth against his, and his tongue swept forward against hers.  That smoky caramel taste filled her senses, and a tiny moan escaped her.  The sound seemed to awaken a fire within him.  One of his arms wrapped around her waist, crushing her against him.  His kiss became powerful, insistent.  It was like he was pulling all of Lucy toward him.  Her nipples hardened inside her bra, brushing against the fabric as he moved against her.  That deep aching throb between her legs returned.  She wanted him.  She wanted him so badly it felt like she was on fire.  But not like this.  Not in a barn with a horse.  She had to stop.  She had to…</p><p>Lucy broke the kiss, panting heavily.  Roman still held her tight, his panting matching her breaths.  He bowed a bit, resting his forehead against hers. </p><p>“Holy shit,” Lucy breathed.</p><p>Roman chuckled.  He said nothing at first, only held her.  The he kissed her cheek, softly, and moved his lips to her ear.  “Let’s go back to the house,” he whispered against her, then took the lobe between his lips for a moment.</p><p>She gasped at the sensation, her eyes closing, involuntarily. </p><p>“Come to bed with me.”  His voice was like satin.</p><p>“I want to,” she said.  He squeezed her at her words.  “I really want to,” she continued.  “But I think… I think maybe we should… can we just… If I said I needed time, would you think I was a total coward?”</p><p>“Probably,” Roman said, but he was smirking at her.  “Look, let’s go back.  Let’s go to bed.  And I mean <em>actually</em> go to bed.  I want to do something with you I’ve never done with anyone.”  Lucy’s eyebrows raised.  “I want to sleep.  In bed.  With you.  All night.”</p><p>The relief and warmth flooded the entirety of Lucy’s being, brought her almost to tears.  She bit her lips to keep the emotions in check, shaking her head.  “Who are you, and what have you done with sex-pot Roman Godfrey?” she asked.</p><p>“Give me a break.  I’m hanging by a thread here,” he whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy heard Nadia crying around 11:30.  She had the baby monitor, but they’d left both the doors to the nursery and Roman’s bedroom open just in case. </p><p>She turned to look at Roman.  He was asleep, if restless.  She could see his eyes moving behind the lids, his breath stuttered and uneven.  He was dreaming. </p><p>He was so fucking beautiful like this it almost hurt to look at him.  He belonged in a goddamn fairy tale.  What the hell was he doing here with her? </p><p>They’d gone to sleep curled around each other.  She’d taken off her leggings, and he’d taken off his shirt.  She almost threw her trepidation out the window when he did that.  She knew he was lean, but she didn’t expect the lithe lines of his swimmer’s body, and the extremely animal reaction it stirred within her.</p><p>“Wow,” she said, trying to break the tension inside herself.  “Bringing the A game, I see.”</p><p>He laughed.  “What?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know,” she said.  “You’re all…”  She waved a hand at his general torso area.</p><p>“I’m what?” he baited her.</p><p>“You hot, okay?” she blurted.  “Happy?  You’re incredibly smoking fucking hot.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he said.  And for a moment his smile was predatory.  “And don’t act like you’re not making it hard for me to have any kind of fucking chivalry when I can see those sexy little black panties you’re wearing.”</p><p>Even with their jokes about willpower with him topless and her in panties, in the end, they’d drifted off with sleepy kisses, tangled legs, draping arms, caressing hands. </p><p>Lucy didn’t bother with her pants.  She padded up to Nadia’s room in her underwear.  She could at least be content in that the Cryptkeeper and Conway wouldn’t get a show. </p><p> </p><p>Roman jerked awake, the gunshot from his dream still pounding inside his head.  The dreams had returned.  This was the second one he’d had in as many nights.  It was like before.  It wasn’t an ordinary nightmare, and it was a safe bet that Peter was having them too.  What fucking luck.</p><p>Roman reached across the sheets.  Lucy was gone.  The bed was still warm on her side.  The moment his head cleared, he noticed the singing.  It was coming from the baby monitor.  Lucy was singing to Nadia.  That movement in his chest returned, this time with a vengeance. </p><p>He threw off the covers and padded shirtless and barefoot to the steps.  He didn’t want to disturb them, but he had a strong desire to watch them together, to finally see Nadia in a moment of tenderness instead of screaming anger or silent examination.  Lucy had left the door to the nursery open a bit, and Roman peered through the opening.  And his heart felt like it stopped within his chest.</p><p>Lucy was holding Nadia in the nursery rocking chair.  Lucy’s shirt was completely unbuttoned, the front closure of her bra was released, and both naked breasts were visible.  Roman, unable to help himself, first admired the round, white swells of her breasts and the perfect rosy pink nipple that was visible.  But then he saw that the other nipple was hidden by the back of Nadia’s head.  Lucy was breastfeeding the baby.  One of Nadia’s little hands was opening and closing softly against the skin of Lucy’s breastbone. </p><p>And Lucy was singing, softly.  It was some kind of lullaby in a language he didn’t understand.  It was beautiful. </p><p>
  <em>Kolisečko moja, z bileho javora</em>
</p><p>
  <em> kolišem u tebe, mileho sokola.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ľuľaj že mi ľuľaj, čarne očka suľaj</em>
</p><p>Roman felt that shift in his chest again.  Legions of thoughts passed through him like machine gun fire.  Awe at what he was seeing.  Confusion as to how it was possible.  Revelation that <em>this</em> was why Nadia wouldn’t eat for Anna.  Resentment that Lucy had kept this from him.  Suspicion at what else she was hiding.  And that overwhelming squeezing inside his heart that made him feel scared and elated at the same time.  All were carried on Nadia’s quiet breaths and Lucy’s voice as she sang.</p><p>It was like a dream.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If anyone is curious about the lullaby at the end of the story, there is a link to it here:</p><p>https://youtu.be/lkwuyS8vkO8</p><p>Again, if you're enjoying the story, please let me know.  And if there's anything I'm royally screwing up, let me know that too.  Thanks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Key</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucy was buttoning the last button on her top when she came down the stairs.  She had every intention of slipping back into bed with him, but instead she found him smoking on the sofa.  He was still shirtless and barefoot.</p><p>“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.</p><p>“Bad dream,” Roman replied, and he saw the shadow of something pass over her face. </p><p>“I came looking for you,” he continued.  “I heard you singing on the baby monitor.  You left the nursery door open.”  He saw the realization dawn in her eyes.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I saw you.  I saw you breastfeeding Nadia.”  He crushed out his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.  There was a low anger in his eyes, but also something like betrayal.  “You need to tell me what the fuck is going on, Lucy.  And you need to tell me now.”</p><p>“I don’t have an explanation for it,” Lucy said.</p><p>“Bullshit,” Roman replied. </p><p>“Roman, I’m not lying to you.  It started right after the first week I spent with Nadia.  I started leaking milk everywhere.  I ruined three shirts.  I don’t know why.  I think I read someplace that women sometimes start randomly lactating when they’re around babies long enough, but I don’t know if <em>that’s</em> bullshit.  All I know is that the milk came, so I gave it to her.”</p><p>“Who the fuck starts randomly lactating, Lucy?!” he spat.</p><p>“Mammals, mostly,” she deadpanned.</p><p>“Who have their own babies!” he said.  “You don’t have…”</p><p>“I did,” she interrupted.</p><p>“What?” Roman asked, some color draining from his face.</p><p>“I had a baby,” Lucy said, softly.  “A long time ago.  She came early, and there was no doctor or midwife to help.  She lived for 5 minutes, and then she passed away.  I held her the whole time.  She was so tiny, like a baby bird, but she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”  She swallowed the lump in her throat.</p><p>“You never told me,” Roman whispered.</p><p>“I know,” Lucy replied.  “I didn’t really know how to work it into the conversation.”</p><p>“You could have told me,” he said, turning, looking into her eyes. “You could have told me about your baby, about feeding Nadia.  You could have trusted me.”  He shook his head, and his voice grew sullen.  “I don’t like secrets.”</p><p>“Fine,” Lucy said.  “I’ll tell you everything, if you tell me everything.  And I have a lot of questions too.”</p><p>Roman looked away, his face pained.</p><p>“Exactly,” she said.</p><p>Lucy moved to sit next to him on the couch.  “Look, it’s a lot.  I know.  And there’s more you don’t know about me, just like there’s more I don’t know about you.  And if it’s too weird for you to be with me after seeing that or knowing what you know now, I’ll understand.”</p><p>“It’s not that,” he said, immediately.  “Okay?”  Lucy stared at her hands.  Roman cupped her cheek.  “Hey, look at me.”  When her eyes met his, he said, “It’s.  Not.  That.”  He kissed her once, softly, chastely. </p><p>Lucy smiled sadly, and rested her forehead against Roman’s, holding the solid comfort of him, indulging in the comfortable silence.</p><p>“So,” she said at last, “you saw my tits.”</p><p>Roman snorted.  “Yep,” he said, popping the “p.”</p><p>“Verdict?”</p><p>“Fucking beautiful,” he whispered. </p><p>“I want to stay,” Lucy said.</p><p>“So stay,” Roman replied.  “Let’s go back to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman parked his car in old abandoned parking lot of the Wagoner Oasis.  The dreams had led him here.  His rather colorful history with the local ladies of the evening led him to recognize the broken neon sign in his vision. </p><p>He’d told Lucy that he had some things to take care of tonight, and that he didn’t know when he’d be home.</p><p>He walked between the old trailers and RVs.  Once upon a time, any one of them would have belonged to a whore who charged by the hour.  Now, it was filled with impoverished families trying to survive.  Someone was going to die here.  The visions had stamped that truth into his mind.  He turned a corner and crossed between another pair of trailers.  And walked right into Peter.</p><p>Peter.  Fuck.  Roman didn’t have to wonder why he was here.  They were dreaming again.  Just when he wanted his old (<em>only</em>) friend to fuck right off forever, now there was <em>this</em> to contend with.</p><p>“Motherfucker,” Roman spat at him, and Peter had the audacity to look hurt.  Roman turned and went back to the car. </p><p>Peter followed him like a goddamn dog, shouting after him.  He didn’t stop, even when Roman started the engine and began pulling out of the parking lot. </p><p>“You don’t think this is worth stopping for five minutes to talk about?” he asked.</p><p>Roman kept the wheels rolling.  “Five minutes yes.  Stopping no.”  He didn’t even turn to look at Peter.</p><p>“The guy from the other dream, his name was Robert Dexter,” Peter continued.</p><p>“Fascinating.”</p><p>“He fell into a gorge a few days ago.  He was carrying his baby.  They both died.”  Roman began to speed up, and Peter threw himself in front of the hood, forcing Roman to stop.  “They both died after we dreamed it!”</p><p>Roman did want it to be true, but, as with so many things, in his gut, he knew Peter was right.  But what did that mean?  Were they supposed to stop the future?  And how did everything; Nadia, Olivia, Lucy tie into what was happening?  Did any of it even matter?</p><p>“Look,” Roman started, “I got my own shit to deal with, and so do you, seeing how you were just at my house whining about your mom.”  It was a low blow, and Roman knew it. </p><p>“Listen, if you don’t give a shit, then why are you here?” he asked.  Peter was never one to take the bait. </p><p>“Look, I had a fucked up nightmare about something really bad happening near mobile homes and railroad tracks,” Roman said.  He didn’t mention the fact that he knew the neon sign immediately.  “Next thing I know, I’m on the road.  Why, I couldn’t tell you.”  It was a lie.  He’d planned to be here all day.  “I just want this shit out of my head.”</p><p>“Did you dream about the sign?” Peter asked. </p><p>Roman’s stomach dropped.  “What sign?” he asked. </p><p>“Gone Sis.”</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, Roman thought.  “How about when I get home I’ll send you my copy of ‘The Interpretation of Dreams?’”</p><p>“I just don’t feel right about running off and abandoning these people,” Peter said.</p><p>“You’re so good at it though,” Roman replied.  He saw the pain in Peter’s eyes where the barb struck home.  <em>Good</em>, he thought.  <em>Hope it hurts, fuckwad.</em></p><p>“Have you ever done anything for anyone else ever?” Peter asked.  “You weren’t the only person that lost someone.”</p><p>Roman growled.  <em>Fuck this and fuck you</em>, he thought, taking his foot off the brake.  The car rolled forward, but Peter continued to flap his gums.</p><p>“I was ready to move in, get a job, BE A FATHER TO HER KID!” Peter screamed the last bit and Roman stepped on the gas.</p><p><em>She</em> has<em> a father, you asshole</em>, Roman thought.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy was sound asleep when Roman slipped out of the sheets.  She’d given Nadia her midnight feeding, and both she and the baby would be asleep until dawn.  He looked down at her to make sure he hadn’t disturbed her. </p><p>She was wearing bright green t shirt with Dorothy Gale’s sparkly ruby slippers on the front.  Where the hell did she find these things?  Her blue-black hair was spread over the pillow, her skin like porcelain against the dark sheets.  She was so beautiful, like a grown up version of Snow White.  And he wanted her so badly.  Having her in his bed, kissing her, holding her, feeling the heat of her skin, the rose smell of her was driving him crazy.  Sometimes he wondered if it was possible for his cock to actually explode.  He’d be patient, though.  He was almost proud of himself.  He’d never been patient for anything. </p><p>In the end, he supposed, the fact that he <em>wasn’t</em> fucking her was probably a blessing.  The hunger was back, with a vengeance.  Even now, as he stood over her, he could hear her heart as loudly as if he’d had an ear pressed to her breast.  If that bloodlust hit, it was most likely to hit in the throes of <em>actual</em> lust, and he couldn’t risk hurting her.  He was sweating with it, and that pounding thunder was coming from Lucy mixed with the rushing-river sound of the blood in her veins.  There was only one thing to do.  He didn’t want to, but the other choice was unthinkable.</p><p>Roman pulled his shirt on, along with his shoes and coat.</p><p>Moments later, he was in the barn, latched onto Beautiful Dreemer like a leech.  Her hot blood poured down his throat in waves.  She hardly fought him at all when he pounced.  It was a terribly sad thought.  She’d trusted him.  She never expected him to attack her.  She was a gorgeous creature, and he was killing her, sucking the life from her like a parasite. </p><p>That was all an upir was, after all, wasn’t it?</p><p> </p><p>Lucy pressed the cotton ball into the crux of her elbow, securing it with some bandage tape.  “Alright,” she said.  “Do your thing, Glinda.”</p><p>Destiny took the IV bag, and put it in the fridge.  She poured a glass of orange juice and handed it to the Lucy.  “Drink,” Destiny said.  “I don’t want you going boom on me.” </p><p>Peter plopped into a chair next to Lucy.  He was rubbing his face, sleepily.  “Can you pour me some too, cuz?”</p><p>“You’re not doing the grimoire stuff now?” Lucy asked, sipping.</p><p>“Gotta wait until the waxing moon is up,” Destiny replied.  “Tonight.”  She set another glass of juice down for Peter.</p><p>“Oh,” Lucy said.</p><p>It was Saturday, not her day to take care of Nadia.  It didn’t mean she wouldn’t talk to Roman later, but it felt like maybe he needed a little break from her.  He was acting strange.  He claimed it was stress at work, and really, she had no reason to doubt him.  He needed rest.  And their PG-13 make out sessions, although fun, didn’t count as rest.</p><p>“So, um, Destiny,” Lucy began.  “I have a question for my favorite magically-inclined person.  An important question”  Lucy looked pointedly at Destiny and then nodded at Peter.</p><p>“We don’t have to send him out,” Destiny replied.  “To be fair, whatever we talk about, I’m probably going to tell him later.”</p><p>“Oh, okay,” Lucy conceded.  “Good to know.”</p><p>“Honestly, I don’t care what your fortune is, or the color of your aura.  No offense,” Peter chimed.</p><p>“None taken,” Lucy smirked.  “Actually, I had this <em>extremely</em> fucked up dream the other night.  I wanted to get your take on it.”</p><p>Destiny shared a strange look with Peter.  “Tell me,” she said.</p><p>“It didn’t feel like a normal dream,” Lucy began.  “It felt like every part of it was actually really <em>real</em>, like I could touch, hear, even <em>smell</em> everything.  There was a white mask, totally blank.  There was freezing cold rushing water.  I saw this neon sign, but it didn’t make sense.  It said…”</p><p>“Gone Sis,” Peter finished.</p><p>“What?!” Lucy breathed.  She felt like her stomach had just looped itself into a knot. </p><p>Peter looked at Destiny, instantly agitated.  “Still want me to ignore the dreams?  Me, Roman, now Lucy?  This isn’t something we can just ignore!  People are dying!”</p><p>“What do you mean, <em>dying</em>?  And what does Roman have to do with any of this?” Lucy asked.</p><p>Destiny sighed.  “You’re going to have to tell her, Peter.”</p><p>“Tell me what?” Lucy asked.  “What the fuck is going on?  Are you saying that we’re <em>all</em> having this dream?”</p><p>Peter turned his chair toward her.  “Okay,” he began, steadying himself.  “Roman and I have shared dreams before.  A little over a year ago, it happened more and more often, leading up to when we fought off a vargulf.”</p><p>“A vargulf was here?!” Lucy exclaimed.  Her eyebrows were somewhere up in her hair.</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter said.  “It’s dead now, thanks to Shelley.”</p><p>“Shelley Godfrey,” she repeated.  “Roman’s sister.  The one people in town say was a mass murderer.”</p><p>“Bullshit,” Peter spat.  “It was the vargulf.  Shelley killed it.  She saved me, and Roman, and Letha.”  He winced, as if even saying her name hurt.  “After the vargulf was gone, the dreams stopped.  Then Letha died and I left.  The thing is, when I got back into town, it was like the dreams immediately started again.  I saw <em>everything</em> you described.  Everything.  And I had that feeling, like someone was going to…”</p><p>“Die?” Lucy finished.</p><p>“Exactly,” Peter replied.  “So I found out that Gone Sis was a place called the Wagoner Oasis, and when I got there, Roman showed up too.  He’d had the same dream.  I know he was trying to stop it, just like I was… and we failed.  The mom and the kid, they both died.”</p><p>“But how is that even possible?” Lucy asked.  “You and me tapping into dream mojo or whatever, I could understand.  We’re… we’re different.  But Roman’s just a person.  I mean, I know his mother is upir, but he’s not…”</p><p>“He <em>is</em> an upir,” Peter interrupted.</p><p> “But…” she tried.  “But no, he’s <em>half</em>-upir right?  His mother…”</p><p>“He’s gone full,” Peter replied, his voice heavy.  “I could smell it on him at the trailer court.” </p><p>Lucy gasped and fell silent.  She felt glassy and numb. </p><p>“Jesus,” Destiny whispered.  “That means he…”</p><p>“Killed himself?” Peter finished.  “Yeah.”</p><p>“He’s… he’s upir,” Lucy repeated.  She thought of the look of astonishment on his face when she’d taken his hand, completely unused to comfort.  She’d told him she knew that empty feeling.  How empty he must have been.  A large tear rolled down her cheek.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Peter asked.</p><p>“Lucika,” Destiny whispered, realization dawning in her eyes.  “What’s been going on?  With you and Roman?”</p><p>“We’ve been seeing each other,” Lucy replied, wiping her cheeks, visibly getting her shit together.</p><p>“Has he hurt you?” Destiny asked.</p><p>Lucy laughed, mirthlessly.  “God, no,” she said.  “He’s been a goddamn Prince Charming.  It explains so much, though.  He’s been sick lately, you know?  Sweating, looking dizzy.  I think the hunger’s on him.”  She took a deep breath to steady herself and looked up at Destiny.  “I need you to get your grimoire on.”  She looked at Peter.  “And <em>we</em> have to figure out what we’re being warned about.”</p><p>“We tried to look deeper already,” Peter said.  “It ended badly.”  He looked at Destiny.</p><p>“What did you try?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“I tried to go to the source of all things,” Destiny said.</p><p>“You tried watersight?!” Lucy exclaimed.</p><p>“Yeah,” Destiny said, “and it almost <em>killed</em> me.”</p><p>“Well no shit, Sherlock!”</p><p>“You want to try it?!” Destiny shot back.</p><p>“Not unless I absolutely <em>have</em> to,” Lucy said.  “I’m hoping maybe we don’t need the have-to situation.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman was hunting.  He hated the word, but it was true.  He’d seen the homeless man on Main Street a couple of times already, panhandling, spewing kind words and curses in equal measure.  He followed the man to this little row of tents and shanties in an old warehouse. </p><p>Roman hated himself.  Beautiful Dreemer’s blood had barely lasted inside him at all.  He didn’t understand.  He’d literally drained a fucking horse!  How could the hunger be back to soon?  He couldn’t trust himself in the house with Nadia or Lucy until he got the dragon and himself under control.  That meant feeding… on a human. </p><p>So here he was, hoping to find someone easily exploited.   He needed someone who would not be believed if they went to the authorities, or who would not be missed if Roman couldn’t hold himself back from draining him.  He hated admitted that last part, but the reality of the situation was that he may very well kill this man. </p><p>He found the man, leaning against a steel beam.  He was very drunk.</p><p>“Do you have a family?” Roman asked.  The man spun. </p><p>“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, and then a moment of recognition.  “Oh yeah.  Yeah I seen you earlier.  You didn’t give me shit.  What, you some kind of rich pervert, or what?”</p><p>Roman ignored his words.  “I need to know,” he said.  “Do you have a family?”  He held out a fat wad of bills.  It felt like a sick kind of fishing, as if Roman had ever been fishing before. </p><p>“I got a daughter,” the man said.  “Won’t talk to me.  What the fuck business is that of yours anyway?”</p><p><em>A daughter</em>, Roman thought.  And he thought of Nadia.  <em>I’m a fucking monster.</em></p><p>“What’s her name?  Where does she live?” Roman spoke quickly.  He needed this over. </p><p>“I ain’t teling you shit,” the man replied.</p><p>Roman fanned out the bills.  “I’m not going to hurt her.  I promise.  I want to help her.”</p><p>The man regarded him and then spoke.  “Melanie Haber.  She’s in Philly.”</p><p>“I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of,” Roman said, sadly. </p><p>And then he pounced.  He jaws opened like a snake (<em>like a dragon</em>) and snapped like a bear trap over the man’s throat.  And through the taste of sweat and grime finally came that rich red blood, spurting, pouring.  The man was fighting him, punching and screaming.  Roman felt and heard none of it.  All he felt sweet, hot liquid flowing into his mouth and throat in waves.  All he heard was the beautiful drum pounding of his heart. </p><p>Someone hit him in the shoulder.  Another homeless man had a pipe.  Roman grasped the second man’s throat one-handed and held him off as he continued to tear and drink, tear and drink.  And when he finally pulled free, his hunger was filled but the dragon had taken over.  He snarled at the crowd that had formed.  He shook his head and retreated like an animal.  And at last the dragon retreated, and Roman tossed the wad of bills into the air, a distraction to speed his escape.</p><p>He didn’t go home for a long time.  He couldn’t face his girls after what had just happened.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy slept, curled in the blankets of her bed at the trailer. </p><p>It was the first time she stayed here that it actually felt lonely.  She was amazed at how it was possible to miss someone after one day.  And it wasn’t just Roman.  She missed Nadia. </p><p>Lucy left bottles of pumped milk with Anna when she’d left early that morning, so she didn’t have to worry about Nadia going hungry.  But it wasn’t just the feeding for Lucy.  It was feeling Nadia close against her skin, smelling that special baby smell.  Now she knew why some Moms said the smell of their baby’s head was like catnip.  But she wasn’t Nadia’s mother, was she? </p><p>It took her a long time to fall asleep, and when she finally drifted off, the dreams began…</p><p>
  <em>A pistol</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A white mask</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A man’s bloodied back</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was flagellating himself</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A snuffed candle</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rushing Water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cracking Ice</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A child plunging into dark water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The flagellating man</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A number – 047</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The child’s mouth filling with water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The white mask</em>
</p><p>
  <em>An old-style plane flies overhead</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A man in a white mask tosses a boy in boots, coat, and hat onto the surface of the ice as he screams</em>
</p><p>“No!” Lucy screamed herself awake.  She was shivering with cold.  It took her a moment to realize where she was.  “Jesus,” she whispered, taking a shaking breath.  She reached for her phone, scrolling to Peter’s number.  It rang only once before he picked up. </p><p>“Lucy?” he said.  His voice did not sound sleepy.</p><p>“Peter,” she said.  “I’m sorry to bother you this late, but…”</p><p>“You had the dream, didn’t you?” he interrupted.</p><p>“Yeah,” Lucy said.  “He’s going to drown the little boy.  I need to talk to Roman.  I’m going over to his place now.  I need to know if he saw it too.”</p><p>“I’ll meet you there,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>Roman opened the door to the nursery.  The dream had shoved him into consciousness, and he wanted to do anything at all to push away the images he saw. </p><p>Nadia was crying.  It was around midnight, her usual meal time, and she was hungry (and angry about it).  He’d found Anna in the hallway, walking to the nursery with the baby monitor and stopped her.</p><p>“I’ll do it,” he said. </p><p>“You’ll do it?” Anna seemed confused.</p><p>“I’ll feed her,” he said.  “Go back to bed.”</p><p>“Mr. Godfrey, I am perfectly capable…” Anna seem insulted.</p><p>“She’s my daughter,” Roman interrupted.  “I should probably start taking care of her <em>sometime</em>.”</p><p>“I see,” said Anna, coldly.  “There’s a bottle warmer on the table.  Good luck.”  She spun on her heel and walked away.</p><p>Now he was here, staring at his crying baby.  He took a breath and licked his lips that were suddenly dry.  He’d faced a fucking vargulf, and he was more terrified of this tiny person. </p><p><em>Get a fucking grip</em>, he thought.  <em>How hard can this be?</em></p><p>He took a bottle of Lucy’s breastmilk from the fridge and set it in the bottle warmer, pushing the “warm up” button.  All the while, Nadia continued to scream.  He wanted to comfort her, but what do you even <em>say</em> to a baby?  <em>Chill out, kid?  Be patient; it’s coming?</em>  He was helpless staring at the big rolling tears on her cheeks. </p><p>Suddenly, she stopped.  Her wide blue eyes cleared as if she’d seen or heard something that distracted her from the hungry anger.  She pointed at the open door of the nursery.  Roman turned, but there was no one there.  Confused, he looked back at Nadia.  She was calm, staring at him with her bottom lip poked out and wet tears drying on her face.</p><p>The doorbell rang.  Roman’s heart leapt.  She couldn’t have known that was coming.  Even with his upir hearing, he hadn’t know there was someone at the door.  It was impossible.  And yet…</p><p>He went down the stairs and opened the door.  It was Lucy, and his heart warmed a bit at the sight of her, only to turn cold again when he saw Peter standing next to her. </p><p>“I didn’t know you two knew each other,” he said.</p><p>“Destiny introduced us,” Lucy replied.  “We need to talk.”</p><p>Roman ignored her last comment.  “You make friends quick,” he seethed at her.</p><p>“It’s a gift,” she deadpanned.  “Roman, I’m having the dreams too.”</p><p>His eyes widened. </p><p>Peter chimed in.  “The white mask from the dreams… That guy… We think he killed the family.  The one at the gorge?  And he killed a woman and her kid last night.  And the kid in the coat… he’s going to drown him.  He’s going to throw him out on the ice, and the kid’s going to fall through.”</p><p>“So what are saying?” Roman asked.  “A psycho in a freak mask is walking around killing people?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter continued, “but he’s making it look like accidents.”</p><p>“Why?” Roman asked.</p><p>“We don’t know why,” Lucy piped.  “But, don’t you <em>feel</em> it?”</p><p>Peter looked into Roman’s eyes.  “It’s why I’m standing in the last place that either of us want to be right now.  We have to figure out…”</p><p>“What do you want?” Roman spat at him.  He ignored Lucy’s incredulous look. </p><p>Peter sighed.  He looked beaten.  “All last year, Destiny kept telling me to pay attention to the dreams, and I didn’t.  That’s why everything went bad.”</p><p>“Well, if you’re trying to make up for skipping out on me like a coward, then duly noted,” Roman deadpanned.</p><p>Lucy studied him.  Roman was trying to keep his impeccable poker face, but Lucy knew him well enough now to see the cracks in his façade.  She heard Peter’s shaky intake of breath at Roman’s words, the tears forming in Peter’s eyes, the soft pain in Roman’s and was struck in the heart with a realization.  <em>Oh</em>, she thought.  <em>This is it.  This is why.  There’s so much more here between them than I knew.</em></p><p>“I was a coward,” Peter conceded, and the way he held Roman’s eyes made Lucy ache.  “It wasn’t even about the people who trashed my trailer.  I just didn’t want anything to remind me of Letha, of everything that I lost.  You were my only friend.  And I shouldn’t have abandoned you, and I’m sorry.”  Peter bowed his head, overwhelmed.  “Alright,” he breathed, and turned to walk away.</p><p>“Peter, wait,” Lucy tried, but Roman was already out the door and past her.</p><p>“Peter,” he called.  Peter turned back to him.  “A plane,” Roman said.  “Did you see a plane?  In the dream?  It was like an old-fashioned biplane, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” Lucy whispered.</p><p>He looked at her, and his eyes were soft.  He turned back to Peter.  “It was pulling a green banner, flying really low.”  Peter nodded.  “Good luck,” Roman said.</p><p>Peter turned and walked away.</p><p>“Wait, Peter,” Lucy started, but he waved her off.  In a moment, he was around the corner and gone.</p><p>She turned back to Roman.  “We have to help him,” she pleaded.  He stared back at her and said nothing.  “Please, Roman,” she said.  “People are already dead.  <em>Children</em> are already dead.  I don’t want any more to die, not when we might be able to stop it.  I know you have bad blood with Peter.  I can see that.  But he’s trying.  He just wants to help.”</p><p>Roman looked pained for a moment.  He steepled his hands over the bridge of his nose and sighed.  When he lowered his hands, he looked into her eyes.  “If we want to find the kid, I think we have to concentrate on the plane and the ice,” he said.</p><p>Lucy sighed, deeply, relief awash over her face.</p><p>“Help Peter work the plane angle,” he said.  “That part will probably take longer.   I’ll try to find places where there’s water that’s frozen over, a lake, a pond, something like that.”</p><p>Lucy couldn’t help herself.  She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.  She stood tiptoe, but could still only reach his chin with her mouth.  She kissed him there.  And when the suddenness of her action wore off, Roman wrapped her in his arms and kissed her properly, thoroughly, on the mouth.  When he finally pulled away, she smiled up at him, tenderly.</p><p>“Thank you,” she whispered. </p><p>Roman rested his forehead against hers, and just breathed her in for a moment. </p><p>“I should get back to the trailer,” Lucy said at last.</p><p>“You don’t want to stay?” Roman asked.</p><p>“I do,” she said.  “But I think I’d better go.  You need to rest.”</p><p>“Okay,” he sighed.  “Then wait here a minute.”  He went back inside for a moment.  He returned with a small black piece of plastic in his hand.  “Here,” he said, pressing the plastic rectangle into her hand. </p><p>“What’s this?” Lucy asked.  It looked like a fob from a keychain.</p><p>“It’s the key,” Roman said.  “To the house.  I want you to have one.  You can come and go whenever you want or need.  I want this to feel like your place too.  So you can stay.  You know, whenever you want.”  He lowered his head, and looked at her from under his eyebrows, his classic I’m-examining-you look.  “And I want that to be a lot.”</p><p>Lucy’s smile was uncontrollable.  Her heart felt like it was on fire.  “I… Roman, I…”  She held the words back, and kissed him instead. </p><p>He pulled away at last, panting, laughing.  “So, that’s a yes, then.  Got it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Adjutor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucy and Peter had been in Destiny’s kitchen for hours.  They’d looked up every large and small-scale advertiser in the tri-state area, and were calling every single one on the list, trying to find any that offered bi-planes with banners.  Peter was trying another number while Lucy made another pot of coffee.</p><p>“Hi!  My name is Darren Allen,” Peter said, in his best I’m-a-young-urban-professional voice.  “I do marketing with Pen-Ultimate Innovations.  Uh-huh.  That’s right.  We make the pens.  Uh, I was wondering if you hangar a bi-plane that tows advertising banners.”  He scrunched his nose in frustration, and Lucy shrugged at him.  <em>Another one down.</em>  “I see,” he continued.  “Alright, well, thank you for your time.”  He hung up and tossed his phone down.  “Fuck me,” he whispered, scrubbing at his face.</p><p>“We’re half-way through the list, at least,” Lucy offered.  Peter smirked.</p><p>Suddenly, there was a violent pounding on the door.  “Fuck off,” Peter grumbled.</p><p>“I’ll get it,” Lucy said, striding to open the door.</p><p>The door flew open.  Someone had kicked it in.  And then two very scary-looking men stormed into the apartment.  One of them, with a shaved head, had a baseball bat.  What the fuck was going on?  Were they being robbed?  Lucy backed into the kitchen.  Maybe there was knife…</p><p>“You ass raped us, you fucking little fuck,” Baldy said, smashing Destiny’s record player.  He was talking to Peter.  “How’d you do it?” he continued.  “You got mirrors in here?  Some shit like that?”</p><p>“This isn’t a good time, guys,” Peter said.</p><p>“Oh, sorry to interrupt your thicc honey’s blowjob,” Baldy spat back, leering at Lucy.  Lucy’s lip curled in disgust.  He pointed his bat at Peter’s face.  “We want our goddamn money back.”</p><p>“Where’s the dog?” the other man with over-gelled hair asked, wandering around the apartment.  “I know there was a dog.  You can’t fake that kind of realism.”</p><p><em>Dog?</em> Lucy thought.</p><p>“He’s at the vet,” Peter deadpanned.</p><p>“Stop fucking with us,” Baldy seethed.  He turned his bat across Peter’s throat and shoved him into the kitchen table.</p><p>“Hey stop!” Lucy shouted.</p><p>“Back off, bitch!” Baldy shouted at her.  “Unless you want some too.”</p><p>“I said I don’t <em>have</em> it!” Peter shouted back, shoving Baldy away.</p><p>Baldy jabbed Peter hard in the stomach.  “Stop it!” Lucy shouted.</p><p>Baldy ignored her.  “Where is it?” he growled.</p><p>“Okay.  Okay,” Peter conceded.  “I’ll tell you exactly where it is.  I took it and I gave it to an attorney to get someone out of a jam.  All of it.  And it’s not coming back.  So you can beat the shit out of me, but you’re still not going to get it.”</p><p>“You’re lying,” Hair-gel chimed in.  “He’s trying to fuck us again.”  Hair-gel looked at Lucy.  “Maybe he’ll remember where he put it, if we beat the shit out of <em>her</em>?”</p><p>Lucy tried not to let her terror she felt show on her face.  Just because she’d been beaten before didn’t mean that it didn’t scare her.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  But fuck them.  They didn’t have to see it.</p><p>“Give us the goddamn money!” Baldy screamed, and bashed Peter with the bat. </p><p>Peter collapsed to the ground, and Lucy heard the sudden crack of bone.  But that didn’t make sense.  Baldy hadn’t hit him again.  A low boiling growl rose from Peter, and Lucy could see the bowing and movement of the bones and muscles in his back. </p><p>“Fuck!” Baldy shouted, looking around the room.  “Where the fuck is it?  Where is that fucking money man?”</p><p>The growling and cracking from Peter continued.  Lucy’s hand went to her mouth.  It couldn’t be… And then Peter turned to look at her, and his eyes were a fiery green. </p><p>“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” she breathed.</p><p>Baldy was still raging, but Lucy barely noticed him.  She was too caught up in the site of Peter’s vertebrae growing underneath his shirt, in the sound of his growls growing louder.  This was very very wrong.  If Peter was what she thought he was, this shouldn’t be happening at this time of the month, and definitely not in the middle of the fucking <em>day</em>.</p><p>“Where is it dickweed?” Baldy asked.</p><p>And Peter roared up from the floor.  His fist connected with Baldy’s nose in an explosive crack.  “Oh, fuck!” Baldy screamed.  Peter scooped up the baseball bat from the floor.</p><p>Hair-gel ran in from the other room.  “Grab an ice pack from the freezer!” Peter shouted at him. </p><p>Hair-gel was a deer in the headlights at the sight of the blood rolling down Baldy’s face.  “What?” he asked.  His voice sounded far away, like he was dreaming.</p><p>“Do it!” Peter screamed. </p><p>That got both Hair-gel and Lucy moving.  She pulled a pack of frozen peas from the freezer, and tossed it to Hair-gel.  She ran to Baldy.  These guys might be some of the fuckwads that Destiny mentioned, but Lucy was still a nurse in the end.  She pulled Baldy’s hands away from his nose to take a look.</p><p>“You sack the fuck up.  You ain’t dying,” Peter spat at Baldy, who was still wailing.</p><p>“Hold on,” Lucy said.  She lined her thumbs up on either side of Baldy’s nose, and torqued her wrists, hard.  There was an audible crack as she set the broken cartilage.  Baldy’s sounds passed from wailing to shrieking.  “There,” she said.  “Now it’ll heal straight.”  She’d never set a nose without anesthetic, but considering he’d just threatened to beat the shit out of her with a baseball bat, she felt a certain sick pleasure in the sounds he was making. </p><p>“Put that on your friend’s nose,” Peter told Hair-gel.  Hair-gel and Baldy cupped the peas cover his bloody face.  “Now get the fuck out of my house,” Peter said. </p><p>Hair-gel and Baldy hobbled out the door.  As soon as the door shut behind them, Peter collapsed to the floor.</p><p>“Jesus, Peter!” Lucy said, dropping to his side. </p><p>Peter wrapped his arms around his middle.  Lucy could hear the bones still moving and cracking within him.  Pain was carved into his face.  He punched the back of the sofa, trying not to scream.  When the growls and cracking stopped, Peter began to shake.  He lifted the front of his t shirt, and Lucy could see deep lacerations tracing the lines of each of his ribs on either side. </p><p>“Fuck,” she whispered.  “Hold on, Peter.” </p><p>Lucy was in full nurse-mode now.  She hauled ass to the bathroom, to the first aid kit that Destiny kept under the sink.  She ran back to the kitchen, knee-sliding back to the spot where Peter sat, his back braced against the wall.  He’d pulled a bottle of vodka from the bookshelf.</p><p>“Here,” Lucy said, gingerly pulling his t shirt over his head, looking closely at the cuts.  “Okay,” she said.  “They’re not actively bleeding.  It looks like they’re already starting to close, so I won’t need to stich anything. I just want to make sure these don’t get infected.”  She pulled rubbing alcohol from the kit.  She nodded to the vodka.  “Take a big swig, Peter.  This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.”</p><p>Peter took a long pull from the bottle, and soon as he swallowed, she poured the alcohol over his wounds.  Peter groaned and shook against the sting.  After a moment, he settled.  Lucy had already begun applying antibiotic ointment, gauze, and bandage tape.  By the time she’d finished, Peter felt settled, if not wiped out from the near-change.  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. </p><p>Lucy moved to sit next to him, her back against the wall.  She stared at the opposite wall as she spoke.</p><p>“Friends of yours?” she asked. </p><p>Peter chuckled, lowly.  “Yeah.”</p><p>“You’re a werewolf,” Lucy said.  It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“Mmm hmm,” he replied.</p><p>“Didn’t feel like that might be something I’d need to know?” she asked.</p><p>“I just thought you were the chick living in my old trailer.  I didn’t realize we’d end up in a buddy cop movie,” he replied. </p><p>“It’s not a full moon,” she said.  “It’s not even night time.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said.</p><p>“That’s not good,” Lucy said.</p><p>“No,” he replied.  “No, it’s really not.”</p><p> </p><p>The upside to being placed on administrative leave for a week was that Roman had plenty of time for his research.  The hunger had once again reared its ugly head, and the frustration at Pryce alluding his investigations had bubbled over and spilled on several people in the office. </p><p>He was removed by HR from his<em> own</em> motherfucking building.  Who’d fucking <em>heard</em> of such a thing?!  Hostile work environment, she said.  The whole fucking <em>place</em> was a hostile work environment.  Maybe HR could work on <em>not</em> hiring whiny pussies.  That would be nice.</p><p>At least he feeling a bit better now.  He took a walk through the woods that surrounded his house that afternoon, just to clear his head, and actually found a stray cow, probably from some neighboring farm, although God knew Roman had never tried to meet the neighbors.  He tore the cow’s throat out in great tearing chomps, its blood spraying into him and filling him, and although it didn’t come close to human blood, it at least satisfied that insane clawing inside him.</p><p>Roman went through his searches again.  There were ponds and lakes all over western Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, and they were lousy with rivers.  But in the vision, there was obvious ice over the water.  That knocked out the rivers.  And he needed to find a place where there had been temperatures below freezing for at least fifteen days.  That knocked out West Virginia.  There had been breaks in the freezing temperatures below the state line.  A smaller pond or lake would be more likely, the larger one would take longer to freeze.  So, that narrowed it down to about a hundred places.  Fuck. </p><p>He needed the info from Peter and Lucy.  He wondered if they were having any luck.</p><p>And they better not get too fucking chummy either. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi.  My name is Gomez Pugh with Root Cola,” Peter droned.  “I was told that you might hangar a bi-plane that does promotional banners.  Yeah, we’re looking to do some non-conventional advertising.”  He pause.  “You do?”  His eyes met Lucy’s, and she jumped off her stool.  She pushed their notebook closer to him.  “Okay, where exactly are you located?”  He wrote furiously.  “Uh huh.  Okay.  Thank you.”  He hung up and jumped up.</p><p>“Brookhaven!” He pointed to what he’d written.</p><p>“I’m calling Roman,” Lucy said, the phone already at her ear.</p><p>He picked up on the second ring.  “Lucy?”</p><p>“Roman!” she exclaimed.  “We got it.  The hangar is at 1288 Walnut Street in Brookhaven.  That’s what, twenty minutes north?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he replied.  “Yeah, here.  There’s a small lake right outside of town.  Lake Adjutor.  I’m texting you the GPS info.  I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>“Okay, we’re going now.  Be careful.”</p><p>“You first,” he said, and hung up.</p><p>“Come on,” Lucy said to Peter.  “You’re driving.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter’s tow truck rolled through the town of Brookhaven, Pennsylvania in the afternoon, just as the schools were letting out.  Buses and kids were everywhere, and Lucy was beginning to worry, badly.  How would they find the kid?  There were so many, and they all seemed to be wearing similar coats.  How would they know which family to warn? </p><p>They stopped at a red light. </p><p>“Shit,” Peter whispered. </p><p>“What?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“The clock,” he said, pointing to a marquee from a bank on the next block.  The time said 3:48.  “It just said 3:47,” he said. </p><p>Lucy gasped.  “047.  048.  Jesus fuck, it’s happening right now.” </p><p>Peter stepped on the gas before the light turned, and they were almost side-swiped by an SUV. </p><p>A minute later, they were at Lake Adjutor.  It was a lovely place, glistening in icy quiet perfection among the frosted fir trees.  On another occasion, it would be beautiful place to visit.  The face of the lake was an alabaster crystal.  The only break in that pristine, white glaze of ice over the water, was the dark black hole punched through the crust several feet from the lake’s edge. </p><p>“Fuck!  He’s in the water!” Lucy shouted.  She jumped from the truck before Peter could even get it stopped.  She was running through the crunching snow to the edge when she heard Roman’s car tear in behind her. </p><p>“Lucy!” he called.</p><p>She didn’t answer.  At the edge of the water, she stripped off her overcoat and threw it on the ground, along with her hat and gloves.  She stepped out of her boots and yanked her sweater over her head.  She followed that with her t shirt.  She was standing on the shore of the frozen lake in her bra, leggings, and socks.</p><p>Roman and Peter were suddenly beside her.  “The fuck are you doing?!” Roman roared.</p><p>“If either one of you have blankets in your cars, get them out.  We’re going to need them.  Don’t follow me.”  Lucy ran out onto the frozen lake, skating in her stocking feet, and dove headfirst into the hole in the ice.</p><p> </p><p>“LUCY!!” Roman screamed.  He tried to run after her.  Peter held him with both hands.  “Get the FUCK OFF me!  LUCY!!” Roman tried to fight out of Peter’s grasp.</p><p>“Stop!” Peter crowed.  “She knows what she’s doing!”</p><p>“She’s going to fucking drown!” Roman shouted.  Peter was still holding him in place, trying to keep him from helping her.  Roman wrenched a hand free and clocked Peter in the face. </p><p>Peter reared back and tackled Roman into the snow, wrestling him into a choke hold.  “No she fucking won’t,” Peter said.  “She won’t drown.  Just give her time.”</p><p>“The fuck do you mean, ‘give her time!’  SHE HASN’T COME UP YET!!  YOU’RE FUCKING KILLING HER!!”</p><p>In the next moment, they heard Lucy splash up through the hole in the ice, taking gasping breaths.  She had the boy in her arms.  He skin was gray, his lips blue.</p><p>“Help me!” she called. </p><p>Roman ran to the water, while Peter ran back to the tow truck for the blanket that lay across the back seat.</p><p>She lifted the boy out onto the shore.  Roman hooked his hands under the boy’s armpits and hauled him onto the snow.  Lucy crawled out of the water behind them, violently shaking with cold. </p><p>Peter returned with the blanket.  “Spread it onto the snow,” Lucy told him, her voice spasming with the rest of her body.  Peter laid the blanket out and Roman lifted the boy onto it.</p><p>Lucy stripped off the kid’s coat and hat.  She leaned over the kid, tipping his chin up, and pinching his nose.  She covered his mouth with hers.  Roman expected her begin breathing into him, like he’d seen in CPR on television, but instead, she seemed to be breathing in.  Breathing in, breathing in, breathing in.  Her back was swelling like a puffer fish.  Roman didn’t know what the hell he was seeing.  At last, Lucy pulled her mouth away from the boy.  She turned her face away into the snow and began to blow water from her mouth.  A wide, firehose torrent of water shot from her wide-open lips on and on.  Roman had seen something like it in a horror movie once.  And when she was finally done, she began CPR, as Roman had seen on a hundred TV shows, compressing hard and fast on his chest.  It seemed she’d been at it for less than thirty seconds when the kid took a gurgling, gasping breath.  “Wrap him up!” Lucy ordered, and Peter swaddled him like a baby.  “Call 911,” Lucy said, “and then put him in the truck.  We’ve got to get him to a hospital.”</p><p>Roman looked at Lucy.  She was shivering, icicles forming in her hair, and he could barely speak.  “How?” It was all he could manage.</p><p>“She’s rusalka,” Peter said.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry.  It's a bit of a short one for me, but I wanted to end this chapter on a little cliffhanger.  How did I do?  :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Rusalka & Upir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So... two things:<br/>1) There is a LOT of exposition in this chapter.<br/>2) This is where things get a little ADULT.  (hides face in shame)  I got a little... descriptive.  So, if this story would be better suited to an "E" rating, please let me know.</p><p>On with the show.  I'll be over here hiding in the corner.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucy found Roman waiting for her on the couch.  It was becoming a pattern. </p><p>Peter took the boy to the hospital while Roman took Lucy back to his house.  She’d had to pull off everything wet she was wearing before the fabric froze to her skin.  She rode back to Hemlock Grove in the front seat of Roman’s car wearing her chunky sweater like a dress, naked and shivering underneath it.  Her coat covered her legs and boots like a blanket.  Roman’s coat was wrapped around her shoulders.  The heater was cranked to the maximum all the way back.</p><p>It was a quiet ride.  Roman hardly spoke; Lucy was too cold to speak. </p><p>She called Destiny and asked her to go to the trailer and bring a bag of her things to Roman’s house.  She needed clothes, a hairbrush.  She wanted to brush her teeth and get the taste of lake water out of her mouth.  She asked Destiny to bring her breastpump too. </p><p>“I’m sorry, did you say <em>breastpump</em>?!” Destiny exclaimed.  Lucy hung up without a reply.</p><p>When they walked into the house, Roman put his large warm hand at her back, and guided her to the bathroom that adjoined his bedroom.  He was conspicuously silent through everything.  It made Lucy wary.  What was he thinking?  Was he angry?  Was he afraid of her? </p><p>At the same time, Lucy was exhausted.  She’d called the water to herself only a handful of times in her life, and it made her feel completely drained.  When she let the water fill her, she felt complete, whole, healed.  But pulling the water, forcing it to do her will, was another thing entirely.  She knew Roman needed answers.  It must have felt like he was going crazy.  But she was simply too tired to give him what he needed just now.  Thankfully, he didn’t push her.</p><p>He filled the obscenely deep clawfoot tub with warm water.  Before he left the bathroom, he turned to her.  “When you feel warmer, I want to talk to you,” he said.</p><p>Lucy nodded.  There was no getting around it.  But for now, she was alone with the water.</p><p> </p><p>When she opened the bathroom door at last, the water having recharged her batteries, she found her duffle bag and her breastpump on the bed.  Destiny had dropped it off, stuffed with clothes and toiletries from the trailer.  There was a hand-written note laying on top of it.  It read “Why Does A Rusalka Have a Breastpump?  I Need Answers.”</p><p><em>Yeah, you and everyone else,</em> Lucy thought.</p><p>Lucy dried and dressed in a soft tank top and a worn pair of scrub bottoms.  She used the pump and capped the milk bottles when she was finished.  And when she walked out of the bedroom, there was Roman on the couch.  There was a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table and two rocks glasses.  Lucy put the milk bottles in the fridge and came to sit next to Roman.</p><p>“Hey,” she said.  <em>What an auspicious way to start</em>, she thought.</p><p>Roman didn’t look at her at first.  He uncapped the bottle and poured a shot into each glass.  “I thought we’d need this,” he said.  He handed her a glass.  “I told Anna to stay in the nursery with Nadia until I came to relieve her.  I didn’t want her listening in.  We’re unpacking some shit.”  He clinked his glass against hers.  “To secrets,” he said, and drained his glass.</p><p>“Roman…” Lucy tried.</p><p>“It’s bad luck not drink after a toast, babe.”</p><p>Lucy tossed back the bourbon and made a “whew” sound.  “I think you made that up,” she said.</p><p>He took her glass, set it on the table, and filled it again.  He handed it back to her.  “Talk,” he said.</p><p>“Where do I start?” she asked.</p><p>“Oh, I could think of a few starting points.”  His sarcasm was syrupy.  “How’d you stay under a freezing lake for five minutes without drowning?  How’d you suck water out of the kid’s lungs like shopvac?  What’s a rusalka?  You know, those are good suggestions.”</p><p>Lucy closed her eyes and sighed.  She finished her bourbon.  “Why don’t I start at the beginning?” she said.</p><p>“A very good place to start,” he quipped.</p><p>Lucy curled her legs up under herself and looked at her hands.  “I was alive once,” she said.  She didn’t see Roman’s brow crease.  “I told you I was twenty-nine years old on my last birthday.  That was true, I just haven’t counted birthdays since I died… That was in 1899.”  She expected Roman to chime in, call her liar, shout at her, but he was silent.</p><p>“I was born in Slovakia.  My family didn’t have much.  When I was twenty, I was considered an asset, a piece of my father’s property, like a car.  He sold me.  My father set up a marriage with a sixty-year-old second cousin who owned a dairy farm.  I was traded to him for two dairy cows.  That’s what I was worth. </p><p>“My only purpose in life was to keep his house and have his babies.  The house-keeping was fine.  The babies were a problem. </p><p>“He had a bad temper, and every now and then he’d give me a few licks with his cane.  He had gout.  But I was his wife.  So long as he didn’t break any bones or teeth, it was assumed I just needed a little “handling.”  I thought maybe when the babies came, he’d let up.  The thing is, babies didn’t come.  I had six miscarriages.  And when I finally thought I’d have a healthy baby, she came early.  There was a snow storm, and no one could come to help me.  A fucking farm hand that helped birth the calves was there, and that was all.  My little girl died, and I didn’t even get to fucking name her.”  Lucy’s cheeks were cold and wet before she realized she was crying. </p><p>“The pain was fucking unbearable.  I’d never felt so empty.  And I was still laying in childbed when I heard my husband talking about how to get rid of me.  He wanted to basically put me out, and get a wife with a womb that actually <em>worked</em>.  I couldn’t think.  I couldn’t breathe.  I just wanted to die so that I could be with my baby.  So that night, I went to the Una River; the farm was close by.  I took a rope from the barn, and tied a big rock to my ankle.”  Lucy pulled up her scrub pants, and showed Roman the circular scar that marked the top of her foot.  “I drowned,” she said.  “I thought that would be it.  I’d go to Heaven or Hell or just disappear.  I didn’t expect to wake up under the water.  I didn’t expect to become this.”</p><p>Roman looked as gutted as Lucy felt.  “So, you just live forever?” he asked.</p><p>“I mean, if you shoot me, stab me, bash over the head with a rock, I’m pretty sure it’s lights out,” she said.  “But I can’t drown.  And I don’t age.  And the water and I are like this.”  She held up her crossed fingers.  “It’s inside me.  You should see my blood.  It looks like fucking rose’.</p><p>“I spent years staying with the water, refusing to join the land of living.  Then World War I hit, and I decided it was time to stop wallowing in my own misery and try to help other people with theirs.  So I became a nurse.  I was on the Eastern Front, taking care of soldiers who had their asses blown to bits in the Carpathian Mountains.  And when the war was over, the Russian Civil War started and I bugged the fuck out.  I traveled western Europe for a while, and then I came here, to the U.S. in 1937.  I’ve been here ever since. </p><p>“I move around a lot.  People tend to notice when you stay for a decade and don’t age.”  She looked at Roman’s glass.  “Want another one?”</p><p>“Fuck yeah,” he whispered.  He finished his glass.  “How did Peter know what you are?”</p><p>“I knew his Uncle Nicholae, Destiny’s granddad,” Lucy replied.  “We had a business arrangement a long time ago.  Lynda contacted me and wanted to start up again.  But by the time I got her letter, they’d left town.  And that’s when I met Nadia… and you.”  She lay her hand on Roman’s arm.  He didn’t respond.  She didn’t hold it against him.  This was fucking data-dump and a half. </p><p>“What kind of arrangement?” he asked.</p><p>“Nicholae knew how to make something, a potion, a drug, whatever you want to call it.  He called it Tears of Tefnut.  I just think he wanted it to sound extra-mystical.  A rusalka’s life is water and pain.  He knew how to take my blood, and distill its pain into this potion.”</p><p>“The fuck did he <em>want</em> with it?” Roman spat.</p><p>Lucy swallowed, hard.  “He sold it to your mother,” she replied. </p><p>“What?!” Roman roared, standing, towering over her. </p><p>“Stop,” Lucy said.  “Just listen to me.  I know she’s upir.”</p><p>Roman crumpled back down again.  He looked sideways at her.  “Did you know I am too?”</p><p>“Yes,” Lucy whispered.  “I only just found out.  Peter could smell it on you.”</p><p>“Fuck,” he breathed, scrubbing at his face.</p><p>“Upirs feed on blood, but they also feed on pain.  Nothing in this world feels pain like a human being.  That’s why animal blood doesn’t stave off the hunger,” she said.  Roman’s eyes flashed.  “This stuff that Nicholae made was concentrated pain.  An upir, your mother, used it to prevent the hunger, or keep it at bay.  He sold it to your mother, and so did Lynda.”</p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ,” Roman murmured. </p><p>“So, that’s it,” Lucy said.  “That’s everything.  No more secrets.”  She sipped more bourbon.</p><p>“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked.</p><p>“Eventually,” she said.  “I didn’t want to lose you.  I didn’t expect to…”  She didn’t finish.  “I didn’t know you were upir.  But you are.  So you know some of what I’m talking about.  The pain.  The fear of people finding out what you are.  The fear they’ll think you’re a monster.”  She touched his hand, and felt relief wash over her like a tidal wave when he took her hand in his.</p><p>“<em>I</em> was alive once,” he said.  Lucy smiled, sadly.  “I was an arrogant spoiled fucking prick who never cared about anyone, and who used and hurt people whenever if suited me.  I loved exactly two people in the whole world:  my sister Shelley and my cousin Letha.  And then I met Peter.”  He paused, wrestling with something.</p><p>“You fell in love with him,” Lucy finished for him.  He looked at her incredulously, but she only cupped his cheek.  “I could see it in your eyes when you were talking.  It’s okay.”  Roman closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into her hand.  “Did you ever tell him?” she asked.</p><p>“I wanted to,” he said.</p><p>“Do you still love him?” she asked, chin quivering.</p><p>“Not like that,” Roman said.  “My heart’s too kicked in the nuts where he’s concerned to ever look back.”</p><p>“Your heart has nuts?” she asked.</p><p>“My nuts have nuts,” he replied, chuckling, wetly. </p><p>“No more jokes,” he said.  “I need to get this out.  I don’t want any more secrets.  And if you want to leave when I’m done, I won’t blame you.”</p><p>“I’m listening,” Lucy said.</p><p>“Nadia… I told you she’s mine, and her mother died.  I didn’t tell you her mother was Letha.”</p><p>“Peter’s Letha?” Lucy whispered.</p><p>“Yeah,” Roman replied.  He couldn’t look at her.  “She was my cousin.  My mother, she used her power.  She forced me to… to rape her.”  Roman’s voice was breaking.  “I didn’t even remember it.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Lucy breathed.  She was openly weeping now, for Roman, and for a girl she’d never met.  “Letha didn’t remember either?”</p><p>“She thought the dad was an angel,” he wept.  “And then Nadia was born, and Letha died of complications.  It was some fucked up plan of Olivia’s.  She wanted to a baby that was half-upir, but with the human half born from incest.  She thought the baby would have super-concentrated upir blood, and then she wanted me to feed from her.  She wanted me to drain a newborn baby.  My newborn baby.  And I couldn’t let her make me, so I did what I thought would stop her.  I slit my wrists.  But that just played into her hands.  I woke up an upir, with the hunger.  She wanted the new hunger to force me to kill Nadia, but I drained Olivia instead.”</p><p>“But she’s alive,” Lucy said.</p><p>“Not for lack of trying,” he replied.  He wiped his cheeks.  “One day my daughter’s going to ask me who her father is, and I’m going to have to tell her who I am and what I did.  It scares me.”</p><p>Lucy moved closer, and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.  “<em>You</em> didn’t do it,” Lucy said.  “You and Letha were <em>both</em> raped.  That’s the truth.  What was done to you was evil.  But Nadia, she’s something beautiful and pure that came from something dark and wrong.  She’s a miracle.  I shouldn’t be able to feed her, Roman.  I haven’t been a mother for over a century.  But being with her made it happen for me.  She is <em>that</em> special.  She has a father who loves her, even if he doesn’t have it all figured out yet.  You’re <em>not</em> your mother.  The man I see is a good person.  Whatever has happened in the past, <em>this</em> is who you are now.  I should know.  I’m worth more than two milk cows.  You’re worth more than what your mother tried to make you.”</p><p>Lucy wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him to her, holding him tightly.  Roman squeezed his arms around his waist and buried his face in her shoulder.  He was sobbing.  The sound was like a penetrating wound.  Lucy wept with him, petting his hair, kissing his shoulders through his shirt.  Weren’t they a pair?  A couple of broken suicides who had used and been used.</p><p>When their tears stopped and their breathing returned to normal, they wiped each other’s tears.  They laughed, awkwardly, shakily, and held each other again. </p><p>And then Lucy felt Roman’s lips at her shoulder.</p><p>He was kissing her softly, above her collar bone.  Lucy sighed, her eyes closing.  Roman kissed higher, his lips rising over the column of her throat, his tongue darting out over her pulse point.  She tilted her head, giving him better access, her heartbeat rising.  His lips and tongue curved under her jaw, until he found her mouth, and kissed her deeply.  His tongue collided with hers, as he pulled her forward into his lap, her knees on either side of his waist.  He pressed her to him, one hand buried in her hair, the other hand working under her tank top to caress the bare skin of her lower back.  Lucy gasped at the sensation, and at the hard length of him pressed against the center of her.  She moved her hips, grinding over him, feeling a rush of womanly power at the groan that rolled out of him.  She lowered her mouth to neck and nipped him lightly, running her tongue over his smooth skin.  He growled, and pushed her away slightly, his hands on her shoulders. </p><p>His eyes found hers with a questioning, a pleading.  She bit her bottom lip and nodded.  “I want to go to your room,” she said.  “I want you in bed the first time we do this.”</p><p>She expected Roman to smirk at her, to say something along the lines of “it’s about time.”  Instead, he looked touched, and her heart felt like it might burst.</p><p>He surprised her again by clutching her ass with both hands and lifting her from the couch, wrapping her legs around him.  She was not light, and she was afraid she’d hurt him, but only for a moment.  <em>Upir strength has its perks</em>, she thought with a giggle.  He didn’t stop kissing her as he carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.</p><p>He turned and fell backwards onto the bed, pulling her with him.  They bounced, and Lucy squealed, and sound that sent them both laughing.  Roman was still smiling when she kissed him again, her lips colliding with his teeth for a moment.</p><p>She was still astride him, and the feel of him through their clothes was terribly arousing.  She became desperate to feel his skin.  Her hands began yanking his shirt up, and he pulled away from her mouth to help her pull it off, chuckling again.  His mouth came back to hers as if her lips were the air and everywhere else was under water.  She ran her hands over his back, feeling the silken warm lines of him.  His hands crept to the hem of her tank top and he pushed it up, his fingers brushing the skin of her stomach.  Lucy jumped and giggled.</p><p>He lifted an eyebrow at her.  “Ticklish?” he smirked.  “That’ll come in handy later.”</p><p>He pulled up the tank top, and she lifted her arms as he pulled it over her head.  Lucy licked her lips.  Roman was caressing her face, softly kissing her lips once before he pulled away.  His fingertips ran from her face, down the length of her neck, over her collar bones, down the swells of her breasts to the front clasp of her bra.  He opened the closure on the first try (<em>show off</em>, she thought) and pulled the garment from her.  She’d never been topless with him before, and his unbroken gaze on her naked flesh felt too intense.  She moved her hands to cover her nipples, and he stopped her.  He shook his head at her.  And then he covered her breasts with his hands and kissed her again.  Her nipples hardened to points against his palms.  He pulled away from her mouth and looked into her eyes, and one corner of mouth curled up.  The look was slightly predatory and fucking incredibly hot.  And when he was certain her eyes were on him, he lowered his mouth to her breast.  He ran his bottom lip over her nipple, watching her eyes all the while, and then laved his tongue over it, and Lucy’s breath caught.  She didn’t know why it was so arousing when she noticed that the pink of her nipples were the same rosy shade as Roman’s lips.  And when he moved his mouth to her other nipple and sucked it into his mouth, Lucy’s head fell back and her held breath rushed out in a moan.  His mouth was sending shock waves straight down to her core, where she’d grown slick and throbbing.  He released her breast and ran his lips and tongue up her neck to mouth again. </p><p>Lucy kissed him as if she were trying to climb inside him.  She’d never been so enflamed in her entire life.  His hands went to the tie of her scrub bottoms, pulling the string loose, while she swirled her tongue through his mouth.  He flattened his palm against her lower belly and slid his hand under the waistband of her panties.  His fingers swept over her cleft, and found the hard button at the apex of her, swirling over it.  Lucy broke their kiss with a gasp.  She moaned as his fingers circled her. </p><p>“You’re fucking soaking,” he growled against her mouth.  Lucy could only pant.  Words seems impossible. </p><p>She lowered her hands to the button of his pants, trying to open them, trying to touch him.  Roman pulled his fingers from her center, and smirked at the whimper the spilled from her.  He pushed her hands away from him, and abruptly flipped them so that Lucy was on her back. </p><p>He stood up from the bed, shucking his pants and boxer briefs.  He looked down at her, watching her watching him.  Lucy’s breath caught.  She’d always thought he was beautiful, but his nude form should be chiseled in marble to be admired for centuries to come, the V of his hips, his long legs, and the impressive turgid length that jutted proudly toward her.  He was a fucking god.</p><p>He reached for her, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her scrubs and panties, pulling them down and off her legs in one motion.  And he looked down at her again, his eyes trained on her throbbing center.  Self-conscious again, she tried to cover herself with one hand.  He pushed it away.  “Don’t ever do that,” he said.</p><p>He bent down onto the edge of the bed.  He hooked his hands behind each of her knees and pulled her legs up, and then pushed them wide apart, opening her up like a flower as he settled between them.  He pulled one of her feet toward him, and brought his lips to her ankle, to the scar that made her what she was, and kissed it tenderly. </p><p>Lucy gulped.  The gesture was sexy, but the meaning behind it was a punch in the heart. </p><p>He placed open mouthed kisses up her leg to her knee, and up her inner thigh, all the while holding her legs open.  And then he lowered his mouth to her heat, his tongue making a long swipe up the entire length of her, before concentrating on that button that had been begging for him. </p><p>Lucy’s back bowed.  All coherent thought ceased.  In her mind were only words like <em>God, fuck, yes, more, there, please.</em></p><p>Roman alternated between swirling his tongue in a circle around her clit, to flicking it, to laving the entire length of his tongue over it.  Lucy was shaking, her skin hot to the touch.  That building and tightening inside her was rising, rising, rising.  And then she looked down where Roman’s mouth covered her, and saw that he was looking up into her eyes, his pupils blown wide like an animal.  And when he held her gaze, his lips sealed over her clit and sucked. </p><p>Lucy’s orgasm crashed through her, a sound like a moan and a shout tore from her.  Her muscles tensed.  Her cunt fluttered and clenched against Roman’s mouth.  And when she finally came down, he licked her softly through the aftershocks. </p><p>Lucy reached for him and he crawled over her until he covered her with his body.  She buried her fingers in his hair, and kissed him like she dying. </p><p>When he broke the kiss, he took her hand down between them and placed it over the velvet steel of him.  He panted when she gripped him, and his eyes fell shut as she stroked him.  She lined him up against her, where she was wet and sensitive and hot and oh-so-ready.  He looked down at her, his face a vision of lust, and he pushed forward, sliding inside her.  Lucy gasped at the fullness, the stretch of him, but she held his eyes as they widened at the feel of her. </p><p>He stilled, letting her adjust.  And then she rolled her hips against him, taking him deeper.  He pulled back and pushed forward again, again, again.  Lucy’s hips rose to meet him.  It was like electricity.  Roman kissed her over and over, her mouth, her throat, her earlobes, her nipples, all the while his rhythm increased, harder, faster.  He pulled her knees up higher, taking her even deeper, and that feeling in Lucy was building again, that sweet fucking ache. </p><p>“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned into her ear.  “So fucking sweet, wet, tight.”  He punctuated each word with a thrust.  “So fucking beautiful.”</p><p>Lucy was tightening, cresting.  Roman’s hips were moving fast, pounding, stuttering.  And then Lucy broke.  She came with a silent scream, clenching around him, milking him.  And Roman drove into her, meeting his release with a breathy moan.  It was the sexiest goddamn thing Lucy had ever heard. </p><p>Roman collapsed on her, and Lucy wrapped her arms and legs around him like a cocoon.  She softly kissed anything she could reach, his ear, his neck, his shoulder.  They stayed that way until he softened inside her.  Then Roman rolled onto his back, pulling Lucy with him.  She laid her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, her arm over his waist. </p><p>“Holy shit,” Lucy said at last.</p><p>Roman laughed, a sleepy but hearty laugh.  “And thank you too,” he replied.</p><p>Lucy slept, curled around Roman like a barnacle, and for the first time she could remember, the ache in her heart was a sweet one.</p><p> </p><p>Roman and Lucy showered together before he left for work, and Lucy showed her appreciation for the night before on her knees.  Roman’s hand was buried in her soapy hair, the water cascading down her back.  When he came into her mouth, he pounded the shower wall with his fist and knocked all the soap and shampoo bottles down from the shelf and onto her.  Roman must have apologized at least ten times, but they giggled like maniacs through every one of his sorrys. </p><p>He kept kissing her.  It was so fucking cute.  He kissed her while she got dressed.  He kissed her while he got dressed.  He kissed her while they had coffee.  He kissed her at the door four times before she booted his ass out and told him he <em>had</em> to go to work, and she <em>had</em> to check in with Peter.  “Fine,” he said.  “But I’m fucking you later.  I’ve got lost time to make up for.”</p><p>“Promises, promises,” she shot back.</p><p>He bit his fist at her as he got into his car, and Lucy had to hold her grin in check.</p><p> </p><p>When Roman got to his desk, he found a note from Pryce.  It was written on a folded piece of fancy textured card stock.  <em>Drama queen</em>, Roman thought.  It read “S5 Mechanical Closet ASAP.” </p><p>Roman’s heart leapt.  Pryce was finally giving in?  What had changed?  He’d been spying on, following, goading Pryce on and on, and out of the blue he caved?  Pryce was too shrewd for that.  Still, Roman had a terrible desire to see what the hell was going on at Sublevel 5.  Who knew what Dr. Fuckenstein was concocting?  Roman dashed to the elevator. </p><p> </p><p>The mechanical closet on Sublevel 5 looked the same as before.  This time, though Roman gingerly pushed the walls, looking for any kind of hidden opening.  The wall to his left moved, the entire panel was one great door.  And beyond, the glow of yellow fluorescents filled a giant, hollow, laboratory. </p><p>Bare steel steps led him down to the floor of the antiseptic room, and there, at its center, he saw something that couldn’t be real.  A vertical rectangular tank jutted up from the floor, filled with cloudy fluid.  Floating inside, was the naked body of a young girl, blonde, ethereal, her staring eyes open.  Roman had seen that face before, in the tank of Project Ouroboros.  Back then, the face had been alien, infantile, fetal.  But he knew it was her all the same.</p><p>“She’s come quite a long way since you saw her last.”  Pryce was smug.  “Say hello to Prycilla, the first human being ever to be created in an extra-uterine environment.”  Roman said nothing.  “But enough about me,” Pryce continued.  “Let me introduce you to another of my creations, one that will set you free.  Once and for all.”  Pryce walked past him through a heavy vault door. </p><p>Roman followed.  He was too gobsmacked by the entire set up to do anything else.  Inside this inner door, Roman saw another tank, old, rusted, like the original Ouroboros tank.  The tiny view window swirled with pink light.  “The work product from a wide spectrum of genetic experiments we’ve been conducting, repurposed here as a nutrient concentrate to satiate the upir appetite.” </p><p>Roman approached the tank.  It was food?  A way to keep the dragon at bay?  He looked through the tiny porthole and saw a sea of rolling pink goo, dabbled here and there with what looked like bits of flesh.  A finger floated by.  Roman covered his mouth in disgust.</p><p>Pryce continued.  “Takes some getting used to I know, but for your kind this is on par with the development of agriculture 8,000 years ago, a reliable supply of sustenance that turned the hunter-gatherer into civilized man.  No more foraging in the night to ward off starvation.  No more preying on helpless victims, taking innocent life.”  Roman thought of the homeless man.  “You’ve come home, Roman,” Pryce cooed, “and you have me to thank.”</p><p>It sounded like Olivia’s words coming from Pryce’s mouth.  Roman felt a stab of ice in his veins. </p><p>Pryce filled a beaker with pink sludge from a spigot at the side of the tank, and handed it to Roman.  “Drink,” he whispered. </p><p>Roman stared at the sludge.  He should turn this down.  It felt like taking this “gift” would mean that he belonged to Pryce and thus Olivia, beholden to them for his very survival.  That was the last place he wanted to be.  But then he thought of the homeless man again.  He thought of sound of Lucy’s heartbeat.  He thought of Nadia’s face.  What if this was the answer?  What if this meant he’d never risk hurting them?  What’s that worth it?  He had no answers, but brought the sludge to his lips.  He drank down the thick, chunky syrup of it. </p><p>It hit Roman almost immediately.  It was blood; it was flesh; it was pain; it was power.  The sludge fed the dragon, but it also felt like it gave the dragon a shot of steroids.  It was like a bump of cocaine as big as a shot glass.  It surged within him.  He felt like he could tear someone’s head of their shoulders and stick his face right in the arterial spray.  He felt wild.  He looked up to see more of the sludge dripping from the spigot.  After going so long between feedings, after subsisting on horse and cow, the last of his control slipped through his fingers like wet fish.  He rushed toward the tank.</p><p>Pryce tried to hold him back from the valve.  “No more, Roman.  It’s too soon!”  He shoved Roman back, almost knocking him off his feet.  Roman lurched back at him, seizing Pryce by the throat and tossing him away like a rag doll. </p><p>Pryce was shouting something at him, but Roman was past hearing.  He pulled the valve completely open and buried his face in the stream of sludge and came roiling out, catching the bits of flesh in his hand and bringing them to his mouth.  He dropped to the ground, sucking, tearing, chewing like an animal. </p><p>And when at last he came to himself, he saw Pryce’s shoes standing in the sludge.  The weight of the meal was like a brick in his guts.  The reek of the flesh bits was in his nose.  And he began to gag.  He ran from the room, from the feast, from the power.</p><p> </p><p>Roman came home sticky, reeking of blood and death.  Lucy panicked at the sight of him.  She ran to him, looking for wounds.  He stopped her before she could touch him.  “Don’t,” he said.  “I’m not hurt.  I just need a shower.”</p><p>Lucy let him go.  The look on his face was strange, and she could see that now was not the time for questions. </p><p>He came out of the bedroom a while later in a t-shirt and sweats, his hair wet.  “Do you want to talk about it?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“Not right now,” Roman said.  “Just know that no one’s hurt.  I just have new shit on my plate.  I have to figure out what to do with it.”</p><p>“You usually flush shit,” Lucy said.</p><p>Roman chuckled.  “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter hadn’t answered his phone all day, neither had Destiny.  Lucy was beginning to wonder what the hell was going on.  She stopped by Destiny’s apartment and the trailer that morning and found no one at either place.  It was evening before Peter’s number finally appeared on her ringing phone. </p><p>“Peter!” Lucy said.  “Hang on.  I’m putting you on speaker so Roman can hear too.”  Lucy put the phone between them on the coffee table.  “I’ve been trying to you all day.  Where have you been?” </p><p>“There’s a lot to tell you,” he said.  He sounded despondent.</p><p>Peter had stayed at the hospital with the boy they had saved until his mother arrived.  He learned then that his name was Aidan.  Though the boy was alive, his time in the water had deprived his brain of oxygen, and he was comatose.  The doctors didn’t know how long it would be before he woke up, if he did at all.  Peter tried to convince the boy’s mother to move him, to take him to another hospital far away.  He tried to tell her that his fall through the ice had been no accident.  Someone was trying to murder her son.  The distraught mother called him insane.  Eventually, Peter was forcibly removed from the hospital by security personnel. </p><p>Then there was Lynda.  The charges against her had multiplied, and according to the lawyer, there was no way to get her out of serious jail time.  So he and Destiny sprang her.</p><p>“You what?!” Lucy exclaimed.</p><p>Peter regaled them with Destiny’s witchy-brew, the drivers tripping balls, and Lynda’s subsequent flight to Bucharest. </p><p>Lucy giggled and Roman pumped a fist.  “Well, that’s great right?” she said.  “So, why do you sound like someone kicked your dog?”</p><p>“He’s dead, Lucy,” Peter said. </p><p>Lucy’s stomach dropped.  “Who’s dead?”</p><p>“Aidan.  The kid,” he replied.  “Sheriff Chasseur came to see me.  He said someone at the hospital gave him too much of the wrong medicine.  The kid’s dead.  He never even woke up.”</p><p>Lucy was numb.  She felt as if all the strength had left her. </p><p>“But… but Lucy <em>saved</em> him,” Roman said.  He voice sounded the way her heart felt, that it was just <em>not fucking fair</em>.  “How…”</p><p>“I think a white mask went to the hospital to finish the job,” Peter said.  “I tried to warn his mom…”</p><p>“It’s not your fault, Peter,” she said.  “We didn’t dream this part.  We couldn’t know.”</p><p>“I know,” he said.  He was silent for a moment.  “We have to stop him.”</p><p>“We will,” Lucy replied.</p><p>When she hung up, she left Roman and went straight up to the nursery.  She played with Nadia in the rocker, ignoring the glares from the Cryptkeeper.  Lucy just needed to hold her.  Nadia’s warmth kept the cold horror away.</p><p> </p><p>Roman made love to her that night slowly, gently, his mouth barely leaving hers until the end when he whispered words like “beautiful,” “good,” and “fuck.”  When it was over, he held her, her head pillowed on his shoulder.  Lucy drew patterns over his chest with her fingertips. </p><p>“You’re a talker,” she said.</p><p>“Hmm?” Roman replied.</p><p>“A talker,” she repeated.  “You talk during sex.  It’s hot.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said.  “I have literally never done that before.  I never talk.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Lucy said, lifting her head, propping it up with her hand to grin down at him.  “I brought a kink out of you?!  I am so <em>proud</em> of myself!”</p><p>Roman pulled the sheet down slowly, exposing one of her nipples.  He ran his fingertips over the rosy point, causing Lucy to catch her breath.  “You should be,” he smirked.  His hand left her breast and cupped her face.  He kissed her again.  “Everything’s different with you.”</p><p>Lucy fell asleep against him, feeling the rise of his chest and beating of his heart.</p><p> </p><p>She woke up to the sound of his voice.  He was muttering, pacing.  Lucy sat up, wrapping the sheet around herself.  Roman was sweating, it was rolling off of him in rivulets.  He was talking to himself, pacing naked around the room.  He slapped himself in the face again and again.</p><p>“Roman?!” Lucy said.  “Stop!  What are you doing?!”</p><p>He looked at her as if he’d just noticed she was in the room.  “Please,” he said.  “I’m fucking freezing!  They stop fighting, you know, when they understand it’s okay to die.  It’s okay.  Sayonara, life.”</p><p>“Roman?” Lucy whispered.</p><p>He continued his quiet ranting.  “I gotta live like this.  They don’t get to die.  I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t.  That great big fucking drum, boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom.  That dragon tearing at my fucking guts.  Make it stop.  It hurts so fucking bad.”  Roman dropped to his knees.  Lucy was out of the bed in a moment, crouching with him on the floor.  She held his hand, caressed his sweating shoulders.  He was weeping now, his face contorted like a child in pain.  “I don’t want to be this thing.  I don’t want to be hungry all the time.  I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.  But I can’t take what he gives me.  It doesn’t come from him.  It comes from her.  Fucking puppet masters.  I can’t.  I can’t.  I…” </p><p>Roman collapsed on the floor and began convulsing, his eyes rolled up white, spittle flying from his mouth. </p><p>“Roman!” Lucy cried.  She’d seen seizures before.  She pushed away any close objects that he could strike.  She turned him onto his side to keep him from breathing his own vomit.  She ran for her phone, but the number she dialed was not 911. </p><p>“Destiny!” Lucy shouted into the phone.  “I need the Tefnut.  Whatever you’ve got!  Yes, I’m serious!  Bring it over to Roman’s right now.  He’s having some kind of attack.  Please, please hurry!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Strawberries & Rose'</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter (along with the last one) caused me to up the rating on this story, just to be on the safe side.  This is pretty ADULT.  Don't say I didn't warn you.</p><p>Also, a song is referenced in the chapter.  If you're unfamiliar with it, here's a link:  https://youtu.be/ojC0mg2hJCc</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucy, wearing Roman’s black bathrobe like a gown, opened the door for Destiny and Peter as soon as she saw their headlights.  Conway and the Cryptkeeper peered from the corners like gargoyles.  Lucy waved the Rumanceks inside.</p><p>“He’s back here,” she said, running to the bedroom.  “Did you bring it?”</p><p>“It’s the last bottle of the original batch,” Destiny said.</p><p>Roman was still on the floor.  Although the convulsions had stopped, he was still unconscious.  She’d covered his nudity by yanking the sheet from the bed, and it had stuck to the layer of sweat on his skin.  It looked like some twisted S &amp; M version of a male wet t-shirt contest.  Lucy dropped onto the floor beside him.</p><p>“What the hell happened?” Peter asked.  He moved into a mirror position on the other side of Roman.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Lucy said.  “He woke me up ranting.  He didn’t make any sense.  He was sweating, crying, hitting himself.  If he were human, I’d call it a psychotic break… And then it looked like he had a clonic seizure.”</p><p>Destiny broke the cap of the glass vial and handed it to Lucy. </p><p>“Help me turn him,” she ordered Peter. </p><p>They rolled Roman onto his back.  Lucy gently pulled the lids of his left eye open with her fingers, and held them open.  She turned the vial and let one clear drop fall into his open eye.  Then she let the lids fall closed. </p><p>Lucy sat back to wait.  “It looked like withdrawal,” she said.  “I’ve seen this happen with opioid addicts who are detoxing.  Hallucinations, sweating, seizure, even psychosis.  But that makes no fucking sense here.”  She looked helplessly at Roman’s face.  She turned to Destiny.  “How long do you think it’ll take that shit to wake him u…”</p><p>Roman sat up with a loud gasp.</p><p>“Jesus H. Christ!” Peter shouted.</p><p>Roman looked around at them all, rubbing his temple.  “No, Roman Godfrey,” he said.</p><p>Lucy laughed.  She laughed and laughed and then her laughter turned into ugly crying.  She no longer in nurse mode.  She was in terrified girlfriend mode.  She threw her arms around Roman.  “Don’t you <em>ever</em> fucking do that to me again,” she said into his neck.  Roman wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. </p><p>He pulled back and looked at three of them.  “What happened?  What time is it?” he asked. </p><p>“It’s like three in the morning.  You had a seizure,” Lucy replied.  “I called them over to bring the Tefnut.  It was the only thing I could think of to help you.”</p><p>“Wait,” he said, before Lucy could go further.  “Let me get some pants on.  I don’t usually have a sit down with friends with my cock out.”</p><p>Just then, baby monitor crackled to life.  Nadia was crying, and the sound filled the room.  Lucy and Roman caught each other’s eyes in panic.  Peter and Destiny looked and the monitor with fascination and confusion.  Peter turned to Lucy, his head cocked like a curious dog.  “You have a baby?” </p><p>Lucy looked to Roman, her eyes pleading.  <em>What do I do?</em></p><p>Roman nodded.  <em>Tell them</em>.</p><p>“She’s not my baby,” Lucy said.</p><p>“She’s Letha’s,” Roman said.</p><p>“What?” Peter whispered.  He was reeling.  He looked at Roman.   “When were you going to tell me?”</p><p>Roman hung his head.</p><p>Lucy touched Peter’s hand.  “Do you want to meet her?” she asked.</p><p>Peter’s eyes met hers.  He looked like a man in a dream.  “Yeah,” he said.</p><p>“Come with me.” Lucy held his hand and led him from the bedroom.</p><p>Roman put his face in his hands.  Destiny was silent for a moment.  She didn’t know whether to hate him, pity him, or call him a dumbass. </p><p>“Get pants,” she said at last.  “Cover your cock.  I’ll look for booze in your kitchen.  I think we’ll need a drink.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter stood next to Lucy in the nursery as she lifted Nadia from her crib.  The baby stared at Peter with her blue in blue eyes, no longer crying.  Her face looked inquisitive.  She reached out with one chubby hand and touched Peter’s bearded chin. </p><p>Peter looked awed.  “What’s her name?”</p><p>“Nadia,” Lucy replied.  “Do you want to hold her?”</p><p>“Y… Yeah,” he said, taking her into his arms.  He looked into the baby’s face, his tears welling and boiling over.  “Nadia.  You’re perfect.”  He smiled, wetly.  “I loved your mother, you know.”</p><p>Lucy watched the two of them, her heart aching for Peter.  And when Nadia finally grew restless, she spoke.  “I need to feed her,” she said.  “Why don’t you go downstairs?  I can bring her down in a few minutes.”</p><p>Peter nodded.  “I’ll see you soon, Nadia, okay?” he said, kissing her little forehead. </p><p> </p><p>Lucy left the nursery door open while she fed Nadia in the rocker.  A minute after Peter left, Destiny appeared in the doorway.  Undeterred by the fact that Lucy had a breast out, she dropped to her knees right by the chair. </p><p>“I told the boys I wanted to see the baby,” she said.  “I do love babies, but mostly I feel like they needed to talk alone.”  Lucy nodded.  “So… I see you’ve gone full mommy milk tits.”  Lucy laughed.  Destiny continued.  “Explains the breastpump.  How is that happening, exactly?”</p><p>“I have absolutely no idea,” Lucy said.  “Remember my White Tower job?  Well, this is the job I actually took.  Taking care of her.  I’m… I was… I <em>am</em> her nanny.  And suddenly one day, I’m leaking milk like a faucet out of nowhere.”</p><p>“You’re the nanny, and you’re fucking the broody rich lord of the manor?” Destiny said.  “That is so <em>Jane Eyre</em>, it’s fucking ridiculous!”</p><p>Lucy chuckled.  “I know,” she said, “but here we are.”</p><p> </p><p>When Nadia was full and happy again, Lucy and Destiny brought her out of the nursery.  Roman and Peter were sitting across from each other, speaking in low tones.  The ladies waited on the landing.</p><p>“I wanted to tell you,” Roman said, “but you split, and I didn’t know what to do.  I needed you, and you left me.”  Deep sadness was etched into both of their faces.  “I was completely fucking lost.  And then Lucy fell out of the sky, and it was like… like fate?  I don’t know who to explain it.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Peter said.  “Were you planning on hiding this baby forever?”</p><p>“I didn’t have a plan,” Roman conceded, his eyes swimming.  “I still don’t.  There’s still so much you don’t know.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Peter said.  “There’s time.  Where would we be without our secrets?”  Peter took Roman’s arm, reassuringly.</p><p>Lucy and Destiny brought the baby down the stairs, and the four of them spent the next three hours playing with her, passing her around like she was the most precious jewel in the world.  Which, of course, she was.</p><p>“Dr. Pryce,” Roman said.  “He’s the head of research at the White Tower.  He makes Frankenstein look like a brain-damaged monkey.  He found a way to make an upir food source.  It’s like a blood smoothie.  He’s been giving it to my mother, and he offered it to me.  The shit’s like high test jet fuel.  I had one drink, and I turned into a wild fucking animal.  I could have turned over a car by myself.”</p><p>“And then you crashed,” Lucy said.  “That’s what happened tonight?”</p><p>“I think so,” he said.    </p><p>“It’s a way to live,” he said.  “I wouldn’t have to steal blood, eat leeches, or kill livestock any more like a goddamn…”</p><p>“Wolf?” Peter said.  He held Nadia on one knee.</p><p>“Yeah,” Roman smirked.  “But if I take this stuff, Pryce has me by the balls.  Which means <em>Olivia</em> has me by the balls.”</p><p>“What about the Tefut?” Lucy said.  She turned to Destiny.  “I know we cracked the last of Nicholae’s original supply, but you can do the grimoire mojo to make more.  Roman could use <em>that</em>.”</p><p>“I ran into a problem,” Destiny said.  “It turns out Nicholae’s magic needed an ingredient that I can’t get.”</p><p>“What?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“Heparin.”  Lucy’s eyebrows hit the ceiling.  Destiny shrugged.  “Apparently Roma Magic and Big Pharma go hand in hand.”</p><p>“What’s heparin?” Peter asked.</p><p>“It’s an anticoagulant,” Lucy replied.  “A blood-thinner, prevents clots.  They really only stock it at hospitals.  You can’t pick it up at the corner pharmacy.”</p><p>“It’s a good thing my name’s on a medical facility, then,” Roman said.  “We could take some from the White Tower.”</p><p>“Would you even know what to look for?” Destiny asked.</p><p>“No,” said Roman, “but she does.”  He nodded to Lucy.  “You’re on the payroll.  I can get you an access badge, and we can hit the medication stock.”</p><p>“You think they’d give me access when they’ve never seen me before?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“You’ll be with me,” Roman replied.  “I can be very… persuasive.”</p><p> </p><p>Cryptkeeper Anna appeared like a rash just after the Rumanceks left. </p><p>Roman had gone to shower and sleep.  He’d already decided that work was not going to happen today.  They had enough Tears of Tefnut for a while.  They’d go to the White Tower tomorrow or the day after.</p><p>Lucy approached the dried up old prune.  “Nadia’s going to be asleep for a while.  She had a long night.”</p><p>“I see,” Anna replied.</p><p>“Why don’t you take the day off?” Lucy said.  “Take a break for yourself.  I’ll stay today, and I’ll be here when she wakes up.”</p><p>“Mr. Godfrey would not approve,” she seethed.</p><p>“I think Mr. Godfrey would,” Lucy replied, her veneer of civility sloughing away.  “Take a day off.  Come back tomorrow.”</p><p>“I see what you’re doing,” the old woman said.  “Don’t think I don’t.”  She stormed out the door. </p><p>“What a cunt,” Lucy murmured. </p><p> </p><p>Roman slept a couple hours.  When he opened his eyes, he was alone in bed, and he could hear music.  He walked out of the bedroom shirtless in his sweats, and what he saw in the kitchen made a smirk smear over his mouth.  Lucy was dancing… in her underwear.  The small radio on the kitchen counter was playing “The Seed” by The Roots.  She was slicing strawberries in her black tank top and black panties.  She was barefoot.  She snaked her torso, pumped her hips to the beat.  When she turned to put the strawberries in a bowl, Roman could see her nipples standing against the fabric of her top.  She wasn’t wearing a bra.  When she turned again, she popped and swiveled her impressive ass, and he could see where the curve of her cheeks were visible below the bottom line of her panties.  He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth.  Jesus fuck, she was sexy.</p><p>He walked behind her as quietly as he could.  When he was close enough, he raised his hand back and brought it up in an arc, smacking and grabbing a handful of her ass in one motion.</p><p>“Ahh!” Lucy squeaked.  She nicked her finger with the knife.  “Ow!  Roman, you shit!  You scared the shit out of me.”  She giggled, putting her fingertip in her mouth.</p><p>“This ass looked too tempting,” he said, wrapping his arms around her middle.  “I had to get a piece.”  He folded his face into her neck and kissed her pulse point.  “It’s a good thing you sent Anna and Conway home.  They’d have a heart attack seeing you like this.”</p><p>“Maybe that’s the idea,” she giggled.  “You want some breakfast?  Strawberries?  Coffee?  There’s some raw sausage in the fridge.” </p><p>“No,” he said, still running his lips over her neck. </p><p>Lucy let her head fall back against his shoulder.  “That feels good.”</p><p>“That’s the idea,” he quipped.  “Let me see this finger,” he said.  He released her, and turned to face her.  He held up her hand.  There was a small cut on the tip of her left index finger.  It was bleeding, but the blood wasn’t red.  It was a watery pink.  Roman was fascinated.</p><p>“I told you,” Lucy said.  “Rose’ right?”</p><p>He looked into her deep brown eyes, and put the finger in his mouth, sucking the blood from the wound, swirling his tongue over the tip of the digit.  He watched Lucy’s mouth fall open, and her eyes widen with lust.  He released her finger and took a strawberry slice from the bowl.  He ran the strawberry over Lucy’s bottom lip before he popped it into her mouth. </p><p>“That’s what you taste like,” he murmured, and then his kissed her, tasting her blood, tasting the strawberry. </p><p>She buried her hands in his hair, moaning into his mouth as he held her.  He broke the kiss and pressed open mouthed kisses down her jaw, her neck.  And then he pushed her away.  He had time to register her confused look for a moment before he turned her to face the countertop, her back to him.  He pressed his hips against her ass, letting her feel how hard she’d made him, trapping her between himself and the counter.  He wrapped his arms around her.  He ran his palms over her hard nipples through the cotton of her tank top.  She shivered against him.  He brushed his lips over her earlobe, nipping the end of it with his teeth. </p><p>“You are so fucking sexy,” he whispered in her ear.  “I saw you dancing, and all I wanted was to fuck you right here.”  She moaned softly.  “Will you let me do that?  Will you let me fuck you right here?”</p><p>Lucy nodded, but Roman wasn’t satisfied.  “I want to hear it,” he whispered.</p><p>“Yes,” Lucy murmured.  “Yes.”</p><p>“Good,” he said.  He took her hands in his and pressed her palms down on the counter top.  “Your hands say there,” he said.  “Don’t move them.”</p><p>He stepped back and dropped to his knees.  He hooked his fingertips under the waistband of her panties and drew them slowly down her legs.  She stepped out of them, and he placed his hands at her knees, coaxing her legs wide apart.  He glided his fingertips up her inner legs, starting at her ankles, over her knees, up her inner thighs.  He dropped open-mouthed kisses up the right globe of her ass, loving the tiny whimpers he was pulling from her.  He kissed wetly over her tailbone and lower back.  His fingers reached her cunt.  Christ, she was wet and swollen already.  She panted as he slipped his fingertips through her folds as he kissed up her spine, coming to his feet.  He pulled his hand away from her cleft.  His hands wrapped around her, lifting her tank top as his lips ghosted up her back.  He bunched the garment under her arms, exposing her breasts, tonguing between her shoulder blades.  He cupped her breasts, fondling her nipples between his fingers.  The sounds coming from her were fucking amazing.  He pressed his mouth to her ear.</p><p>“These fucking tits,” he whispered.  “They were first thing I wondered about when I first saw you.  I wanted to know what they’d feel like in my hands, in my fucking <em>mouth</em>.  They’re so fucking gorgeous.”</p><p>Lucy was moaning. </p><p>“I’m going to fuck you now,” he growled.  “Is that what you want?  Do you want me to fuck that sweet, wet pussy?”</p><p>“Y-yes.  Oh.  Yes,’ Lucy stuttered.</p><p>Roman stepped back far enough to shove off his sweats.  Lucy looked back at him over her shoulder, her palms still flat on the counter.  The look on her face was animal, and he fucking loved it.  He came back to her, his hand at her back, pushing her forward over the counter.  He took himself in hand and lined himself against her heat.  He pushed forward into her, slowly.  He wanted her to feel every fucking inch.  And when he bottomed out inside her, he draped himself over her, his chest against the hot skin on her back.  “I could fucking <em>live</em> inside you,” he whispered, taking her earlobe between his teeth one last time.  He backed up to his full height.  “Hold on, baby,” he said.</p><p>He took her hips in his hands, pulled far enough out of her that only the tip of him was still in her heat, and then he drove his hips forward hard. </p><p>“Unh!” Lucy moaned.</p><p>He did it again.  Again.  Again. Again. Driving himself into her.  His pace quickened.  Soon he was pounding her against the counter.  The wet sounds of them coming together was obscene.  Lucy was pushing her palms against the counter, pushing back against him, taking him deeper.  She was keening, spewing nonsense words like:  oh, oh, please, Roman, fuck, Roman, please.  He was gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.  On every stroke, her ass cheeks jiggled.  It was so goddamn dirty.  Roman wished he had it on camera. </p><p>Her legs were shaking.  She was starting to flutter.  Roman reached a hand around her, and found her swollen hard little clit.  She moaned loudly, as he circled it, stroking fast and mercilessly with wet fingers.  “Oooo,” she cried.</p><p>“That’s it,” he growled at her.  “You’re getting close, aren’t you?  I can fucking feel it.  I can feel you shaking, tightening up.  It feels fucking good doesn’t it?”</p><p>Lucy only moaned.</p><p>“Say it,” he ordered.</p><p>“So good.  Oh fuck,” Lucy spat.</p><p>“I want to feel you,” he said.  His fingers were a blur over her clit.  “I want to feel you come.  I want you to <em>squeeze</em> my cock.”</p><p>And then he felt it happen.  Her cunt flexed hard around him, and she actually fucking <em>screamed</em>.  Her body spasmed, and Roman roared as he came inside her, almost as if she’d pulled the orgasm out of him with hers. </p><p>He collapsed over her, his forehead against the nape of her neck.  They were both panting.  Roman slipped out of her.  He swept Lucy’s hair from the back of her neck, and kissed her softly there.  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her. </p><p>Lucy stood up and turned his arms.  She kissed him slowly, thoroughly, her breasts flattened against him, skin to skin.  When she broke the kiss, they rested her forehead against his.  “That was positively filthy,” she breathed.</p><p>Roman laughed.  “You’re welcome,” he said. </p><p>“Oh my God!” a shocked voice screeched. </p><p>Roman and Lucy turned to see Anna (<em>Cryptkeeper, Lucy called her</em>) staring at them in horror. </p><p>“Shit!” Lucy squeaked, yanking down her tank top.  She jumped behind Roman, hiding her nudity. </p><p>“Anna!” Roman said jovially.  He turned to face her, holding Lucy behind him.  His old nanny looked positively aghast.  The poor old thing hadn’t seen his cock since he was in diapers.  He was giddy in her look of disgust.  “I thought Lucy gave you the day off!  Would you like some strawberries?”</p><p>“I do not take orders from <em>her</em>,” Anna spat, looking everywhere but at him.</p><p>“But you do take orders from me,” he said.  His tone was no longer joking.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” she said.</p><p>“Take the day off,” he said.  “And next time, assume that when Lucy tells you something, it came from me.  Got it?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” she said, and retreated like her hair was on fire and her ass was catching.</p><p>“Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed,” Lucy say after Anna was gone.</p><p>“Why?” Roman asked.  “We’re fucking hot.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman took Lucy to get her car the next morning.  It was still parked outside of Destiny’s apartment.  She told him she’d be going back to the trailer today, but she’d be back at the house later.  She’d kissed him hard before getting out of the car, even palming his dick through his pants.  “You are the fucking devil,” he whispered against her lips.</p><p>“So I’ve been called,” she said.  Then she was gone with a grin and waggle of eyebrows. </p><p>He drove back to the house, missing her already.  What the fuck was happening to him? </p><p>He was smirking to himself, thinking of payback, when walked through his front door… and saw Olivia on his couch.</p><p>“What are you doing here?!” he roared at her.  He turned on Conway.  “You were under orders.  Why’d you let her in?”</p><p>Olivia stepped between them.  “It’s okay.  It’s okay.  I just had a very informative discussion with Pryce,” she said.  “He says he gave you the nutrient once and then you never came back.  I don’t know exactly what you’re up to, but I know that you need what he has.  I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why you wouldn’t take it.  I know you don’t want a trail of bodies leading back to us.”</p><p>“You’re right,” Roman seethed.  “I have no intention of living out my life as a literal parasite.  Pathetic, burrowing, semi-human tick.  But I’d cut out my own heart before I’d take anything you or Pryce gave me.  Every gift from you comes with the price tag of my fucking soul.”</p><p>“You have no heart,” she said.  She had the audacity to look hurt.</p><p>“It’s hereditary,” he returned.</p><p>“Roman, I know I haven’t been a less than perfect mother…”</p><p>He cut her off.  He had no taste for bullshit today.  “If you ever come back here, I’ll kill you.  And this time, I’ll make it stick.  Conway, will you show this woman to the door?”  He snapped his fingers at her like a dog.  He didn’t stay to watch her leave.</p><p>Anna stopped her at the door.  “Madam, a word?” she said.  Conway nodded and Olivia approached her old nanny.  “You have a right know,” the old woman said.  “A right to know.”</p><p>“A right to know what?”</p><p>“Street trash is what she is,” Anna said. </p><p>“Who is?” Olivia asked.</p><p>“We brought her into this house to care for the baby,” Anna continued.  “A night nurse.  Just extra help.  She’s insinuated herself into the household and then… straight into your son’s bed.”</p><p>“And where is she now?  This street trash?” Olivia asked.</p><p>“Who knows?  She comes and goes as she please.  Your son gave her a key, as if this was <em>her </em>house!  I have been usurped, Madam.  The little whore has taken over <em>all</em> care of the baby.  Acts like she’s the child’s mother.”</p><p>Olivia turned without a word and left the house. </p><p> </p><p>That night, after Roman had moaned into her neck through his climax, and Lucy had given him raised scratches on his back as payback for the bruised on her hips, they lay awake awhile.  They were on their sides, facing each other.</p><p>Tomorrow, they were going to the White Tower for heparin.  For heparin, and a way to Roman to separate himself from his mother’s influence for good. </p><p>Lucy was happy, giddy, contented, a hundred other feelings she hadn’t felt in… maybe ever. </p><p>“I’m glad you and Peter are back on good terms,” she said.</p><p>“Me too,” said Roman.  “Although if he ever knew the truth…”</p><p>“Don’t think about that,” Lucy said.  She tried to lighten the mood.  “Just to be clear though, you’re not casting me off for ‘he of the facial hair and pretty eyes?’”</p><p>“Hmm, he does have pretty eyes…” Roman baited her.  Lucy slapped his arm.  “No,” Roman said.  “I told you, that’s over.”</p><p>Lucy nodded.  “Don’t feel weird about it.  I had a fling with a woman once.”</p><p>“Really?” Roman said.</p><p>“Yeah,” Lucy continued.  “It was in Berlin in 1930.  Her name was Ilse.  She was blonde.  She wore tuxedos and lots of mascara.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Roman said, nodding and looking pensive.  “I think it’s very important that you tell me every tiny little dirty slippery wet detail.”</p><p>Lucy slapped his arm again.  “Oh, getting rough are we?” Roman said, digging wiggling fingers into her middle.</p><p>“No!” Lucy squealed.  She tried to roll and buck to get away from his tickling fingers. </p><p>“You must be tortured, mein frauline!” he laughed.</p><p>Later, curled together, Lucy looked up at Roman’s sleeping face, and her heart ached at the beauty of him.  And she was filled with a kind of joy that felt a little like pain.  She kissed his cheek, softly.  “I love you, Roman Godfrey,” she whispered, and tucked herself against him.</p><p> </p><p>Roman’s eyes opened in the darkness.  He laid awake the rest of the night, listening to Lucy’s breathing, his heart clenched in fear at what he’d heard.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Kin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a quick note, that this chapter also includes more ADULT material.</p><p>If you're enjoying the story, let me know.  And if you think I'm mucking the whole thing up, let me know that too.  I'm always looking to improve.</p><p>Thanks!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Roman and Peter ran screaming, snow swirling around their heads</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A tower</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A naked tree</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A boy on a swing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A stained glass window with the face of Christ</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A woman shoveling snow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A turning weather vane</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman screaming</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman and Peter running toward her screaming</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boy falls from the swing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We’re hot hot hot.  You’re not not not”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A red devil with a pitchfork on his shirt</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The white mask</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman and Peter screaming</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The white mask</em>
</p><p>Lucy screamed herself awake.  By the time she realized she was in Roman’s house, in his bed, Roman appeared in the bedroom doorway.  He was fully dressed.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said.  “Another dream.  Did you have one?”</p><p>“I, uh, I didn’t sleep,” he said, sheepishly. </p><p>“You didn’t?” she said. </p><p>“No,” Roman said.  He seemed to be looking everywhere but at her. </p><p>Lucy studied him.  He seemed painfully awkward.  Roman was many things, but awkward was never one of them.  Realization settled in her gut like a brick. <em> Oh</em>, she thought.  <em>He didn’t sleep.  He wasn’t asleep.</em></p><p>She tossed off the sheets and stood nude from the bed.  He was very interested his shoes.  “Roman?” she said.</p><p>“Hmm?” he said, still looking down. </p><p>“Roman, I’m standing naked in front of you, and you’re not saying anything.  No jokes, no sexy-talk, you’re not even looking at me.”</p><p>He looked at her face.  “Now I am,” he said.</p><p>She took his hand.  “Roman, if you didn’t sleep, did you hear what I said last night?”</p><p>“Yes,” he said at last. </p><p>She nodded.  “And you’re feeling weird about it?  Nervous?  Afraid I might be hurt or upset that you haven’t said it back?”</p><p>“Yes,” he said.</p><p>Lucy rolled her eyes.  “You are such a fucking idiot,” she said.</p><p>“What?” he said.</p><p>She cupped his cheeks.  “I love you, Roman.  I say that because it’s the truth.  It’s what I can give to you.  It’s not a demand for something.  It makes me feel good to feel it, so it makes me feel good to say it.  Okay?”  He looked relieved.  He rested his forehead against Lucy’s.  Lucy continued.  “You and I don’t age.  We have to keep moving eventually, so we don’t get to hold on to very much.  We turn and turn like the fucking world.  It’s a lot change and lot of noise.  But loving you makes me feel still and quiet for a while.”</p><p>Roman closed his eyes. </p><p>“I’m going to shower,” Lucy said.  “I have to get fancy for the White Tower.”  She kissed his lips quickly, and padded to the bathroom.</p><p>Roman was left blinking at her.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy walked out of the bedroom looking like a million fucking bucks.  She was wearing deep green wrap dress that hugged all his favorite curves in all the best ways.  She wore black heels and her red lipstick.  She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.  She opened the fridge and added a splash of cream.  And then she finally noticed the way he was staring at her.</p><p>“What?” she said, popping a strawberry into her mouth.</p><p>“You look beautiful,” he said.</p><p>She waggled her eyebrows at him.  “I’ve never done an Ocean’s Eleven heist before.  I have to look the part.”</p><p>Roman smiled.  “We may have another errand while we’re there,” he said.  “My Uncle Norman called.  He’s got something I need to see.  Wanna meet my Uncle?”</p><p>“Sure, is he cool?” she asked.</p><p>“Let’s see.  He was Letha’s dad, who was fucking his brother’s wife, my mom, for years before he finally left my Aunt Marie right after Letha passed.  So… no.  He’s a dick.”</p><p>“And I thought the Kennedys were dramatic,” Lucy said.  “Okay.  Sure.  Uncle Norman sounds like fun.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucy stood in the White Tower elevator with Roman.  He was right about being persuasive.  Everyone at the reception desk seemed to shit their pants at the sight of him, and gave her an access badge without another word.  <em>Roman, what are you like when I’m not around</em>, she thought.</p><p>They’d only gone up one floor, when the car stopped and the doors opened.  Olivia Godfrey stepped on.  Lucy’s heart clenched.  Olivia looked at Roman, and then turned her eyes to Lucy, looking her over, one eyebrow raised.</p><p>“What are you doing here, Olivia?” Roman said.  “You have no business in this building, and you need a security pass to come down here.”</p><p>Olivia flashed her badge.</p><p>“Where’s hers?” Olivia asked, nodding to Lucy.</p><p>“I’m literally wearing it around my neck,” Lucy said.  She did little to hide her disdain.</p><p>“Oh, you’re the nanny,” Olivia said in a syrupy voice.  “Anna told me about you.  Quite the social climber aren’t we?”</p><p>“Another word and I’ll have you removed from the building,” Roman said.  “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Norman called.  Asked me to meet him.”</p><p>The elevator stopped on Sublevel 5.  “Goddamn it,” Roman deadpanned.  “And I told him I wasn’t interested in a family therapy session.”</p><p>Olivia walked off the elevator.  Roman looked at Lucy and made a face as if he smelled something bad.  Lucy couldn’t stop her smile.  They left the elevator just in time to see a wheelchair round the corner.</p><p>An older man was pushing an extremely tall girl in the wheelchair.  She was dressed in all white, white scrubs, white crocs, white hoodie, even white bandages that covered her hands.  Her face was like a broken puzzle.  The right side of her face was whole, childlike, with a mop of straight black hair.  There were braces on her teeth.  The left side of her face was a mosaic of scar tissue, bald, with one oversized eye. </p><p><em>This is Shelley, </em>Lucy thought, and she looked at Roman.  He looked awed.  Lucy ached for him. </p><p>Olivia said something about being happy she was alright.  Lucy barely heard.  She watched as Roman threw himself into his sister’s arms.  Shelley began to weep, and Lucy, always an empathetic crier, joined her. </p><p>Shelley and Roman held each other for a long time.  And when Roman pulled back to look at her face, she spoke.  “I… missed you.” Her words were stilted. </p><p>Lucy’s stomach clenched.  From what Roman had told her, Shelley couldn’t talk at all.</p><p>Roman was visibly shaken.  “Did you just…”</p><p>“Yep,” the older man said.  That had to be Uncle Norman.</p><p>Roman was a live wire.  “Say something else,” he said.</p><p>“Roman,” Shelley drawled, laughing and weeping.</p><p>“Say it again,” Roman laughed.</p><p>“Roman… you look tired,” she said, smiled, sobbing.  Lucy covered her mouth to hide her quivering chin.</p><p>“Lost sleep over you,” he said.  “But it’s all gonna get better now.”</p><p>Shelley looked up at Olivia.  “Hello Mother,” she said.  To Lucy’s shock, there were actual tears streaming down the woman’s face. </p><p>“Hello Darling,” Olivia said.  “What happened?  Where have you been?”</p><p>“So much to tell you,” Shelley said.</p><p>“We want to hear it all,” Olivia said.</p><p>“Who is this?” Shelley said, looking at Lucy.  Lucy wiped her cheeks, quickly. </p><p>Roman saw her swiping away tears, and was even more overcome.  Lucy was crying for someone she’d never met.  He didn’t deserve her.  “This is Lucy,” he said to Shelley, “my girlfriend.”</p><p>“Girlfriend?” Shelley said, smiling. </p><p>Lucy grinned, at Roman’s word and at Shelley’s reaction.  “I’m glad to meet you, Shelley,” Lucy said. </p><p>“I’m… glad too,” Shelley said.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy found Roman in the hallway.  She’d left him and Olivia alone with Shelley.  It felt strange to be imposing on their family time.  But she didn’t expect him to be out of Shelley’s room so soon.  Roman was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. </p><p>“Hey,” she said.  “Is Shelley resting?”</p><p>“Pryce asked us to leave,” he said.  “He said our bickering was causing her stress.”  Roman sighed.  “So…” he said, his eyebrows inquisitive.</p><p>Lucy reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of glass vials filled with clear liquid.  “Why yes, Mr. Ocean, I <em>did</em> hit the jackpot,” she said.  She stuffed them back into her bag when she heard approaching footsteps.  It was the doctor, Pryce.</p><p>“Lucy, I presume,” he said.  His voice was jovial, like a tour guide.  “Shelley has asked to see you for a moment.”</p><p>“Me?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“Fine, let’s go,” Roman said.  He placed a hand at the small of her back and began to guide her to Shelley’s room.</p><p>“Uh, just Lucy for now,” Pryce said. </p><p>Lucy looked at Roman, confused.  He looked annoyed at Pryce but only shrugged.  “Um, okay,” Lucy said, following the doctor back into Shelley’s room. </p><p>The tall girl was lying on her hospital bed when Lucy approached.  “Hi,” Lucy said.  “Dr. Pryce said you wanted to see me?”</p><p>“Lucy,” Shelley said.  “Wanted to talk to you… alone.”  Her words will still slow, but improving.  “Never heard Roman… say girlfriend… before.”  Shelley’s smile was so warm, and Lucy couldn’t help but return it. </p><p>“Me neither,” Lucy said, and Shelley laughed. </p><p>“You seem nice,” Shelley said. </p><p>Lucy sat in the chair next to Shelley’s bed.  “So do you,” Lucy said.  “Roman really missed you.  He talked about how much he loved you.  I wished…”  Lucy trailed off.  “But here you are.  I’ve never seen him so happy.”</p><p>Shelley eyes studied her face.  There was a long silence, and Lucy began to wonder what Shelley was looking for.  At last, the girl spoke.  “You love him,” she said.</p><p>Lucy sighed, and smiled softly, if a bit forlorn.  “Yes, I do,” she said.  “Very much.”</p><p>“Why are you sad?” Shelley asked.</p><p>“He doesn’t love me,” Lucy said.  “It shouldn’t hurt.  I know who he is and who I am.  But it does.”</p><p>“Do you dream?” Shelley said.</p><p>Lucy felt like she’d been dipped in icy water again.  “What?” Lucy asked.</p><p>“Do you dream?  With him?”  Shelley repeated.  “Do you share… dreams?”</p><p>The breath rushed out of Lucy.  Her eyes were wide with disbelief.  “Yes,” she said.  “How did you know that?”</p><p>“The dreams were… always… Roman’s,” Shelley said.  “He sends them out… like… radio waves… to the ones… he loves… most.  He did with… Peter… and he did with… me.   He’s… the source.  His power.”</p><p>Lucy had no words.</p><p>“He loves… you,” Shelley said.  “I see it.  He just… doesn’t… know.  Or he’s too… scared.”</p><p>Lucy wanted to cry.  She could feel the tears brimming to swim up.  She touched Shelley’s bandaged hand.  “I think you might be his guardian angel,” she said, trying to keep her chin from quivering.</p><p>“He’s… mine,” Shelley said.  Her welling eye matched Lucy’s.</p><p> </p><p>After Lucy left Shelley’s room, and they convinced Pryce to let Roman at least kiss her goodbye, they took the elevator up to Roman’s office in the penthouse.  Roman mentioned needing to go over some paperwork, but Lucy had a sneaking suspicion that Roman just wanted to show off.</p><p>“<em>This</em> is your office?” Lucy crowed.</p><p>Roman laughed.  “Hey, only the best.”</p><p>Sure his name was on the building, but this was ludicrous.  This office might be as big as her trailer.  One entire wall was glass, just under the Godfrey sign.  She could see the whole of Hemlock Grove from this height.  She wouldn’t be surprised if she could see Lake Erie on a clear day.  There was expensive art on the walls, sculptures on the end tables.  A large decorative mirror framed in ebony was mounted on one wall.  There was a separate lounge area with a white leather chair and full sized couch.  And was that a silver coffee service?</p><p>“Over the top doesn’t even <em>begin</em> to describe this,” Lucy laughed.</p><p>“Perks of a fortunate birth,” Roman said, giving her ass a playful squeeze.  He eyes widened, and he smirked.</p><p>“Why Mr. Godfrey!” Lucy said in her best empty-headed Marilyn Monroe voice.  “You can’t paw me like that at the office.  It simply wouldn’t be right.”</p><p>Roman bowed his head, watching her from under his eyebrows.  “You’re not wearing any panties,” he said.</p><p>Lucy smirked right back.  A little teasing never hurt anyone.  “Why Mr. Godfrey!” Lucy said, putting a hand to her cheek in a mock oh-dear-me gesture.  The Marilyn voice was back.  “I must have forgotten!  What a silly naughty thing I’ve done!”  She sauntered over to him, running her hands over his chest.  “But with a dress like this, we simply can’t have panty-lines.  What would the boss say?” </p><p>Roman backed her into the wall behind the desk, his look predatory.  “The boss might say you need to be taught a lesson,” he rumbled. </p><p>“Oh no,” she cooed.  She gripped the lapels of his sport coat and pulled him flush against her.  “What will he do, since I’ve been so very very bad?”</p><p>This was so fucking exciting.  The game, the nearness of him, his sexy tailored suit, even the glass door where <em>anyone</em> could walk by and see them, all of it brought that wanting, that throbbing heat to life inside her. </p><p>Roman kissed her, his hands snaking behind her to caress her ass.  Her red lipstick smeared over their mouths, and neither of them cared. </p><p>For all the years Lucy had been alive (and not alive), she’d never felt desire for someone like this.  She’d never loved someone like this. </p><p>That feeling shattered the moment she heard Olivia’s voice.</p><p>“You are nothing if not a drama queen, Roman!  Oh, Jesus, what have we here?!”  She’d burst into the office with a paper in her hand.  Apparently, she’d been so preoccupied with the paper, that she hadn’t seen them at first.</p><p>Roman and Lucy jumped apart like two kids caught fucking on the living room couch, which honestly wasn’t far from the truth.  Roman righted his hair and did his best to wipe Lucy’s lipstick from his face before he turned to his mother.</p><p>“Olivia,” Roman said.  “This is Lucy.  You met earlier.”</p><p>“You could at least have the decency to change the glass before you pluck the servants,” she said.  Olivia pressed a button on the light switch panel that turned the door glass opaque. </p><p>“What do you want?” Roman spat.</p><p>Olivia held up the paper, ignoring Lucy completely.  “An invoice from a moving company?  You sent them to my cottage to evict me?”</p><p>“Your cottage?” he asked.  “Technically, everything on these grounds belongs to me.”</p><p>“Technically, I can’t be evicted from a hospital, which this place is, after all, unless a medical doctor releases me from treatment,” she said.</p><p>“I’ll get Pryce to sign off on your discharge,” he returned.</p><p>Olivia rolled her eyes.  “Oh, God.  Can we just stop this ceaseless pissing contest, please?  Whether you believe me or not, I really have been taking stock of my life, and I realize I need to make amends for so many of the things I’ve done, as well as the things I didn’t do, which could have your life and Shelley’s… happier.”</p><p>Lucy was incredulous.  <em>You raped your son</em>, she thought.</p><p>“Happier,” Roman seethed.  “I would literally rather have needles shoved into my eyeballs than listen to you prattle on with your filthy lies.”</p><p>“You need to listen to me, Roman,” Olivia said.  “You haven’t taken any more of the nutrient from Pryce.  You need it.  It’s a better way.  Then we can be together, like a family again.”</p><p>“Hard to imagine you could fuck up Shelley and me more than you already have, but you’re still at it,” he said.  “You come to my house, when I told you stay away from my family.”</p><p>“You and your family won’t make it without me,” Olivia said, the veneer of apology stripped away.  The cold underbelly of her was showing.  “You need me to show you the way.”</p><p>“No I don’t,” Roman said.  “I don’t need you or Pryce.  Not anymore.  I want nothing to do with you.  I want to be better.  Like my father.”</p><p>“JR was weak, indecisive, and suicidal,” Olivia spat. </p><p>“He chose a bullet in the head over being married to you,” Roman said.  “What does that say?  Because of you, I never knew my father.”</p><p>Olivia stared at him a moment.  “JR’s not your father,” she said, softly.</p><p>“What?” Roman whispered.</p><p>“Didn’t have it in him.”  Olivia looked smug.  Lucy wanted to tear the look from her face.  “I know you’ve always considered him the genius behind Godfrey Industries,” she continued, “because that’s the company line.  I didn’t want to spoil your fantasy.”  Roman slowly sank into the white leather chair as she spoke.  “But JR’s only genius was recognizing it in others.  He met a brilliant medical student one summer in a Greenwich Village bathhouse, and an even more brilliant woman on the stage in London.  Pryce and I made the company what it is.  None of it would be here without me.  JR couldn’t have created any of this, let alone give me proper children.  Norman is your father.  I think deep down you’ve always known that.”</p><p><em>Uncle Norman</em>, Lucy thought, horrified.</p><p>Roman looked gutted.  He voice was gravelly.  “That means… Letha…”</p><p>“Roman…” Lucy said, coming to his side.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry, are you still here?” Olivia said to her. </p><p>Lucy stood up, toe to toe with her.  Olivia may have the height on Lucy, but she wouldn’t back down.  “Yes, I’m still here,” Lucy said.  “And I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>Olivia leaned toward Lucy.  She took a deep breath in through her nose.  And then her eyes widened and she laughed.  It was an ugly sound.  “Rusalka,” she said.  Lucy’s heart dropped.  “Si ako ovca pre strihaca,” Oliva spat at her.</p><p>“A ty si pijavica,” Lucy shot back.</p><p>“Oh Roman,” Olivia continued.  There was laughter in her words.  “<em>This</em> is your answer?  Dropping the Tears in your eyes like I used to?  And you’re <em>fucking</em> the source?!  You might as well be fucking the family milk cow.”  Olivia looked over her body.  “Although I suppose that’s not far from the truth either.”</p><p>The words “milk cow” were like a punch in the gut.</p><p>Roman saw the pain in Lucy’s face, and it yanked him out of his stupor.  He roared up from the chair, and seized Olivia by the hair.  “If you ever speak to her like that again, it won’t be your tongue I’ll rip out.  It’ll be your lungs.”</p><p>Olivia grabbed Roman’s jaw and lifted him from the ground as if he weighed nothing. </p><p>“Roman!” Lucy screamed.</p><p>Olivia threw him onto the couch like a ragdoll.  Roman looked up at her.</p><p>“Now tell me how much you don’t need this power,” she said.  She turned and walked out, heels clicking.</p><p>Lucy ran to Roman.  “Are you alright?” she asked.  She placed a hand on his face. </p><p>Roman turned his face away, violently.  He stood from the couch and began pacing, silent, not looking at Lucy.  She could feel the rage all around him like a storm cloud.  He stopped in front of the mirror, starring at himself.  Suddenly, he slammed his forehead into the glass, shattering it.</p><p>“Roman!  Jesus Christ!” Lucy ran to him.  She passed hands over his forehead, looking for cuts, finding nothing.  “What are doing?” she said.</p><p>Roman seized her upper arms, and pulled her to him roughly.  “Look at me!” he said.  “Do you see a good person?  Or do you see someone who raped their own goddamn sister?”  Lucy stared at him, unsure of what to say to him in this wild state.  “Tell me!” he roared. </p><p>Lucy did the only thing she could think of.  She kissed him, hard, and when he pulled away, panting, she spoke.  “I see a good man.  I see a man who escaped a rapist mother.  I see a man who loves his daughter and his sister.  I see a man who fights for the things that matter.  I see the man I love.”</p><p>And she watched the wild look in his eyes fade.  It was replaced with something like awe. </p><p>And then he buried his hand in her hair and kissed her again.  His kiss was intense and bruising, his tongue desperate as it entered her mouth.  He pulled her tight against him, as if he were trying to fuse himself with her.  He pulled away from her, turned, and swiped his arm over the desk, dumping papers, pens, files into the floor.  He turned back, lifted her to sit on the desk, and kissed her again, laying her back until her head was pillowed on his laptop.  He pressed himself between her legs as they dangled from the desk.  Suddenly, he dropped to his knees on the floor between her knees, shoving up the skirt of her dress, exposing her.  He opened her cleft with his thumbs, and sealed his mouth on her, licking, sucking.  Lucy sobbed, and covered her mouth with her hands.  He growled against her, and it vibrated against her button.  Lucy was panting, trying desperately not make noise.  Anyone could walk in.  Anyone could walk <em>by</em>, and hear what he was doing to her.  He was feasting on her like a madman. </p><p>But as fucking amazing as it was, she had other plans.  She put one of her heels to his shoulder and pushed him away.  The look on his face, the wetness smeared over his mouth and chin, was overwhelming.  </p><p>Lucy sat up, pulling him up by his lapels, and she kissed him, tasting herself on his lips.  She pulled back and whispered, “Lock the door.”</p><p>Roman walked to the office door, thumbed the lock, and turned back to find Lucy again.  She seized him and pushed toward the leather couch, where he bounced into the seat. </p><p>Lucy mounted him, knees on either side of his hips.  She went to work on his belt, and opened the button and fly of his pants.  She pulled his trousers down just enough to free the hard length of him, and then she lined him up against her, and sank down slowly onto him.  Her breath hitched, the size of him a sweet burning stretch.  She looked at Roman.  His pupils were blown wide, his mouth open.  And at last, she began to move.  She rolled her hips over him, rising, falling, making circles.  It was delicious.  With every figure eight of her pelvis, he bumped points inside her that made her see stars. </p><p>Roman swept the hair from her neck, and dragged his lips up her throat to her mouth, where he kissed her reverently.  His hands left her hips, and his fingers hooked beneath the shoulders of her wrap dress.  He pulled the sides of her dress down her arms, along with her bra straps.  He dragged his fingertips down the tops her breasts as she rode him.  He wormed his fingers beneath the neckline of her dress, and pulled the top of her dress and the cups of her bra down, spilling her breasts.  He pulled her closer, bringing his mouth her, swirling his tongue over each hard point of her nipples. </p><p>Lucy panted and whimpered, softly.  The crest in her was building, rising.  She moved her hips faster, snapping down and forward on him, mashing her clit against his pubic bone on each down stroke. </p><p>Roman put a hand between her breasts and pushed her, forcing her to lean back as she rode him.  He gathered the skirt of her dress up, rucking it around her belly button.  He trained his eyes on the slick place where they joined, watched her slide down on him over and over, the sweet, swollen pink of her. </p><p>Lucy watched his face as he stared at her womanhood, watched him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, the lust burning in his eyes. One of his hands cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple.  And then he lowered that hand to her center, the pad of that same thumb finding her hard little pearl, pressing it, circling it. </p><p>“Mmm,” Lucy whimpered. </p><p>Her hips moved ever faster.  Roman watched her flushed face, watched her honey cunt, and felt her tightening all around him.  His circled his thumb faster, wanting to see and feel that beautiful fucking moment when she came apart.</p><p>And then it happened.  Lucy came with a silence scream, gripping him like a vice over and over.  She was shaking, her eyes closed, her mouth wide.  It was gorgeous. </p><p>Lucy was still in the throes of her orgasm, when Roman seized her.  He pulled her off of him, and tossed her onto her back on the couch cushions.  He lifted her legs over the crooks of his arms, and slid inside her again, taking her deep enough to ache.  He pounded into her.  Lucy was still so sensitive, that each stroke was an aftershock, a tiny orgasm. </p><p>Roman was mesmerized by the pleasure in her face, the bounce of her breasts, the wet fluttering flesh of her. </p><p>“Say it,” he groaned.  His hips were speeding up, stuttering.  “Say it,” he repeated.</p><p>Lucy looked up into his desperate, pleading eyes.  “I love you,” she said.</p><p>Roman buried his face in her neck, folding her nearly in half, and Lucy felt him spill inside her. </p><p>He lowered her legs, wrapped his arms around her, and pillowed his head on her naked breasts.</p><p>“Say it again,” he whispered.</p><p>Lucy wrapped him in her arms and legs, stroking his hair.  “I love you, Roman,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Peter called while Lucy was in the shower.  She’d rushed into the bathroom as soon as they walked in the door.  Her breasts had begun leaking before they got to the car, and she was afraid of ruining her dress.  After the water cut off, Roman could faintly hear the hum of the breast pump.</p><p>When Lucy came out of the bedroom, in jeans and a Star Wars t shirt, her hair loose and wet, Peter and Roman were talking on the couch.  She sat on the ottoman opposite them.</p><p>“It’s gotta be in the dreams,” Peter said.  “The boy was wearing a shirt with a devil on it.  He said something about being hot.”</p><p>Roman shrugged.  “Maybe the kid worships Satan in hell.”</p><p>Peter rolled his eyes.  Lucy glared at Roman. </p><p>Roman’s eyes changed with realization.  “Or plays baseball.  Our team is red hot.  Your team is all shot.  We’re hot hot hot…”</p><p>“You’re not not not,” Lucy finished.  They were the same words from the dream.</p><p>“That’s the team cheer for the Hemlock Diablos, right?” Peter said. </p><p>“The mascot’s a horned devil with a pitchfork,” Roman replied.</p><p>“He’s on the fucking little league team,” Peter whispered.</p><p>“That family’s in Hemlock Grove,” Roman said.  He reached for his tablet and began searching. </p><p>“We need to find a link to Frank Bannister.  That’s who made the stained glass,” Peter said.</p><p>“There!” Roman said after a moment, pointing to a picture of the stained glass they’d seen in their dreams.  “Nineteen-thirty.  Oldest church in the area renovated.  Stained glass.  Frank Bannister, foremost craftsman.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Peter said.</p><p>“Exactly,” Roman quipped.</p><p>Peter ignored him. </p><p>“It’s a parsonage,” Lucy said.  She jumped up from the ottoman and walked to the door.  She looked back at them.  They were still sitting, staring at her.  “Chop, chop, boys,” Lucy said.  “Crime doesn’t fight itself!”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s the church,” Peter pointed from the back seat of Roman’s car.  “There!” he gestured to the parsonage, the red brick two-story home on the opposite side of the church parking lot.</p><p>Roman parked the car.  Lucy looked at the house, the swing set, the swirling snow.  “Holy shit,” she said.  “Just like the dream.”</p><p>They climbed from the car, trudging through the snow to the front door.</p><p>“What do we say?” Roman asked.  Peter and Lucy looked at each and looked at him.  They had no answer.</p><p>Roman rang the bell.  After a moment, a woman answered the door.  “Can I help you?” she asked.  Lucy opened her mouth to say something about being a school nurse, when they heard the boy screaming upstairs. </p><p>All three of them stormed into the house and up the stairs.  The boy’s mother was calling to them, but they didn’t turn or slow.  Peter reached the boy’s room first, throwing open the door, running directly into a cloud of bees.  Roman and Lucy followed immediately behind.  Lucy saw the boy on the bed, swatting and flailing at the swarm. </p><p>“Oh my God!” shrieked the boy’s mother.  “He’s allergic!”</p><p>Roman snatched a blanket, wrapping it around the boy and carrying him from the room.  “Help me!” the kid screamed.  “There are too many bees in my room!”</p><p>“Help him!” the boy’s parents shouted from the doorway.  “Was he stung?”</p><p>“Get him out!” Lucy shouted back, pulling the boy and his parents from the doorway.  Roman slammed the door behind himself. </p><p>“He stung me!” the boy cried.</p><p>“The mask!” Peter shouted.  “He’s outside!”  Peter sprinted down the stairs and out the front door. </p><p>Roman looked at Lucy.  “I’ve got him,” she said.  “Go!”</p><p>Roman raced after Peter.</p><p>Lucy turned to the boy’s parents.  “I’m a nurse,” she said.  “We need his EpiPen right now, and you need to call 911.”</p><p>Roman saw Peter shirtless, running across the snow, bloody tears forming in the flesh of his back.  Roman turned, looking for any kind of weapon, and found a shovel.  He grabbed it, jumping from the porch and chasing after Peter.  “Peter!” he called.  “Don’t try to do this alone!” </p><p>Roman finally caught up to Peter, now completely in his wolf form.  He had the white mask backed against a tree, the man had what looked like a long night stick in one hand.  The wolf turned and yelped at Roman.  No, it yelped at what was<em> behind</em> Roman.  Roman turned just in time to be sliced shallowly in the shoulder by another white mask with a long blade.  If Peter hadn’t warned him, he might have had his head sliced off for his trouble. </p><p>Roman swung his shovel, dodging the counter attack from the mask.  Wolf-Peter snapped at the other mask, avoiding the night stick.  Roman’s swing landed across the face of his attacker, dropping them into the snow.  He brought his shovel down hard over their head. </p><p>The wolf launched itself at the other mask, knocking them to the ground.  The wolf pounced on the mask’s throat, tearing through flesh, turning the snow red.  A moment later, the wolf, seeming sleepy, lay on the ground.  Roman watched as the wolf’s flesh bloomed, parted, and fell away, revealing a bloodied, naked Peter lying in the snow, shaking like a newborn.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Watersight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman and Peter dragged the bodies down the icy road, each hauling a rope tied around the ankles of a white mask.  They’d tried to dig graves for them during the night, but the ground was too frozen. </p>
<p>Roman heard from Lucy while they were trying to dig.  The kid was alright.  She’d given him his medicine, and gone with his parents to the hospital.  She explained to the parents that Roman, Peter, and her had run out of gas, and came to their door to ask for help.  That’s when they’d heard the screaming and rushed to help.  The parents were too relieved not to buy it.  Destiny picked her up at the hospital that night and took her back to his house. </p>
<p>Roman was exhausted.  He was forty-eight hours without sleep, he hadn’t had a feed of any kind since the Tefnut drop two nights ago, and he was dragging a dead murderer in the freezing cold.</p>
<p>“These fuckers are heavy,” he said.</p>
<p>“We should have made them dig their own graves before we killed them,” Peter said. </p>
<p>“That’s dark,” Roman replied.</p>
<p>Peter didn’t answer.  He changed the subject.  “So, you and Lucy…”</p>
<p>“Me and Lucy what?” Roman said.</p>
<p>“Nothing,” Peter continued.  “I like her.  I just never would have pegged her as your type.”</p>
<p>“What?  Smart?” Roman quipped.</p>
<p>Peter laughed.  “Yeah, that.  But you know what I mean, man.”  Roman looked at him, side eyed.  “Hey, I’m not judging,” he continued.  “I’ve <em>always </em>liked a girl with a big back porch.”</p>
<p>Roman chuckled.  “Easy, there.”  He was quiet for a moment.  “She’s kind.  She’s funny.  She’s sexy as hell.  And she sees right through my bullshit.”</p>
<p>“Then you should marry her, my man,” Peter said.  Roman looked at him, incredulous.  “Your bullshit layer is <em>miles</em> deep.”</p>
<p>Roman scoffed.  “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“You love her?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>Roman said nothing for a while.  “Yeah,” he said, at last.</p>
<p>“Shee-it,” Peter smiled.</p>
<p>“Shee-it,” Roman returned.</p>
<p>“Have you told her?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“Because I’m a fucking coward,” Roman replied.</p>
<p>Peter stopped.  “That’s far enough,” he said.  “Keys.”</p>
<p>“What?” Roman asked.</p>
<p>“I’ll get the car,” Peter replied. </p>
<p>Roman fished the keys from his pocket and handed them to Peter.  He walked back to the bodies.  He could smell the blood, crisp and metallic, still clinging to the wounds of the masked men, and the hunger came bubbling up.  His mouth began to water, and his vision faded in and out.  Maybe just a taste…</p>
<p>“Hey,” Peter said, bringing Roman out of his stupor.  Roman stood and faced him.  “You don’t need to go there,” Peter said.</p>
<p>“I’m alright.  I’ve got it handled,” Roman replied, but as he looked back at the bodies, he wondered if that was true.  “Maybe I should get the car,” he offered.  Peter passed the keys back.</p>
<p>Just then, one of the white masks gurgled and moaned.  “Is he alive?!” Roman gasped. </p>
<p>Peter approached the body.  Yes, he was breathing.  “Fucking shit,” he whispered.  He reached down, and pulled back the mask and hood.  It was a woman, a red-headed woman who couldn’t have been must older than they were. </p>
<p>“Help me,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“What the hell are we going to do?” Roman shot at Peter.</p>
<p>“Uh… We gotta turn her into Chasseur,” he replied.</p>
<p>“You’re kidding?” Roman said. </p>
<p>“What else can we do?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“Not implicate ourselves in that, for starters.”</p>
<p>“They’re serial killers,” Peter said.  “We acted in self-defense.”</p>
<p>“If we get dragged into this, it means a trial,” Roman said.  “It means reporters sniffing around stuff that’s none of their business.”</p>
<p>“We’re already hip deep in this,” Peter said.</p>
<p>“Not if we don’t tell anyone,” Roman replied.</p>
<p>Peter looked at him, shocked.  “You’re not proposing… we kill her now?”  Roman didn’t reply.  “Shee-it,” Peter said.  “And you thought I was dark.”</p>
<p>“What if there’s more of them, and she gets a message out?” Roman said.  “They show up at my front door looking for payback.  The baby’s there, man.”</p>
<p>Peter sighed.  “Let’s just find out what she knows first.”</p>
<p>“Fine.  Alright.”</p>
<p>Peter crouched over her.  “Who are you?” he asked, his voice hard.  He held a knife over her.  She said nothing.  “What’s your fucking name!” he shouted.  The woman whimpered, afraid. </p>
<p>“What are you?” she cried.  “How are you a wolf and now you’re…”</p>
<p>“No, you answer.  You don’t ask,” Peter interrupted.</p>
<p>“My name is Sarah… I think,” she said.</p>
<p>“You think?” Peter returned.</p>
<p>She lifted her head to look at the other white mask.  “Is he really dead?”</p>
<p>“Who?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>The woman sighed.  “I’m Sarah Chase.  813 Auburn Lane, Valencia, California.  I’m Sarah Chase… I haven’t said that in ten years.  Thank you,” she whispered.  “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Who is that?” Peter asked, pointing the knife at the other white mask.</p>
<p>“He made us call him John Bone.  He kidnapped me from my bedroom while my parents were sleeping.  He had a group in the desert in Utah.  Some of the others were kidnapped too.  He thought killing families would bring the Apocalypse, and that God would come down from Heaven…”</p>
<p>Roman pulled out his phone, searching.</p>
<p>“You could have ran away any time you wanted, even here in the forest,” Peter said.</p>
<p>“He would have killed me!” she cried.  “He killed so many of us!  He made the rest watch.”  She moaned.  “I really don’t feel good.  Our car is parked just up the road.”  She looked at Peter’s face, but found no sympathy there.  “Can I ask you one thing, please?”</p>
<p>“What?” Peter spat, there was no sympathy in his voice.</p>
<p>“If I die, will you tell my mom I was sorry?”</p>
<p>“Peter,” Roman said.  When Peter turned, Roman showed him what he’d found.  It was a missing children’s website.  The page read:  Sarah Chase, Valencia California, missing ten years.  The picture could have been this woman’s little sister. </p>
<p>Roman pulled Peter away from her and the corpse.  “She knew all the names, addresses, all those details,” he said, pointing to items on the screen. </p>
<p>“So could anyone else,” Peter said.  “It’s all on the web.”</p>
<p>“But this picture looks just like her,” Roman said.</p>
<p>Peter growled, frustrated.  “Look, this group, or whatever they are, they know what they’re doing.  They obviously have a plan.”</p>
<p>“This is part of it?” Roman asked.  “Look at her.  You think she’s capable of running game on us?  She’s a mess.”</p>
<p>Peter grew intense.  “I don’t care how crazy these fuckers are, it was still her choice to murder.”</p>
<p>“That twisted fuck became like a father to her.”  Roman gestured to the corpse.  “When someone’s tapped in that deep, and they force you to do something terrible… whatever… it’s not a choice.”  Peter looked strangely at him, and Roman knew he was wondering where this was coming from.  <em>If you knew, it would break your heart,</em> he thought.</p>
<p>Peter sighed.  “Ok,” he said, rolling his eyes.  “I’ll get her car.  She says it’s close.”</p>
<p>Peter returned later in a black SUV.  Roman helped the woman to her feet, taking her weight, helping her walk on wobbly legs.  “Who are you looking forward to seeing?  Huh?  Your parents?”  He wanted her focused.</p>
<p>“They’re gonna hate me,” she said.</p>
<p>“They’ll understand,” he replied.  He thought of Lucy, and looked down at the scarf he was wearing, the one she’d made for him.  <em>The ones that love us, understand</em>.</p>
<p>“My mom was pregnant.  I don’t even know my sister’s name,” she said.</p>
<p>“There you go,” he said.  “You’re going to meet your little sister.  That’ll be the best day of your life.”</p>
<p>Peter opened the back door for them.  They leaned the girl against the side of the SUV.  “I’m thirsty,” she moaned.  “Can I have a pop?”</p>
<p>Peter seized her by the hair and pointed the knife at her face.  “Who the fuck are you?” he growled.</p>
<p>“Whoa whoa whoa,” Roman tried.</p>
<p>“I’m Sarah,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“Bullshit,” Peter shouted.  “Who are you?”</p>
<p>“Peter!” Roman barked.</p>
<p>“She’s not from California,” Peter said.  “She’s not from Utah.  She asked for a pop, not a soda.  Only people from the Midwest say that.”</p>
<p>“Chill out!  Jesus!  Maybe her best friend from the cult was from Omaha!  Relax!”  He’d never seen Peter like this.  He was wild, twitchy.  <em>Rabid</em>, he thought.  “Peter you’re sick, man, from turning.”</p>
<p>“Shut up!” Peter roared.</p>
<p>“Calm down, okay?  Let her go.”  Roman put his hand on the knife.  “Let her go.”  He drew Peter away from the girl.  “It’s affecting your judgement,” he said.  “You’re not yourself.”</p>
<p>Peter looked behind Roman.  He was past him in a flash.  The girl was reaching into the back seat.  Peter spun her and stabbed her squarely in the chest. </p>
<p>Roman was horrified.  “You stabbed her over a fucking soda?!” he screamed.</p>
<p>“She was reaching for something.  What was it?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>The girl began to laugh breathlessly.  She lifted her hand.  In her glove was a metal ring.  A grenade pin. </p>
<p>Peter raced to the backseat, grabbed the grenade and hurled it away from the car.  “Get down!” he screamed.  It exploded just over the hill, spewing dirt, snow, and tree bark into the air.</p>
<p>“The caul,” the girl said.  Her eyes were far away, and she was smiling.  “You can’t stop us.”  A moment later, she was dead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roman and Peter walked in the door of Home 44 looking beat.</p>
<p>“Mind if I take a shower?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“Nah, mi casa and shit,” Roman replied.</p>
<p>Lucy raced over from the kitchen and kissed Roman soundly.  When she pulled away, Roman smiled, sleepily.  She grinned at them both.  Peter waggled his eyebrows at her.</p>
<p>“Do I get one too?” he asked.</p>
<p>“I should kiss you both,” Lucy said, to Roman’s chagrin.  “We did it.  Actually saved the boy, and you stopped the white masks.”</p>
<p>“Not so much,” Peter said, his shoulders slumped further.  Lucy’s smiled disappeared.</p>
<p>“There are more,” Roman said.  “We don’t know how many.”</p>
<p>The intercom at the front door suddenly crackled to life before Lucy could ask more questions.  “Roman, I need to talk to you!”  It was Norman. </p>
<p>“Go, shower,” Roman said to Peter.  “I’ll get rid of him.”</p>
<p>Norman was waiting for him outside the front door.  The sun had set again (<em>how long had he been awake, now?</em>), and snow was beginning to spit.  Roman pulled out his cigarettes.  If he was going to stand out here freezing his ass off, he could at least have a smoke. </p>
<p>“I just saw this DNA test on Olivia,” Norman said.  “I’m worried about you, Roman,” Norman continued.  “Listen, there’s this, um… European folklore thing… behind it.  Something real, I guess.” </p>
<p><em>So that’s it</em>, Roman thought.  <em>You found out you’re fucking a monster.  Congratulations.  You didn’t need a DNA test to figure that out.</em></p>
<p>“It’s all true,” Roman said.  <em>Good</em>, he thought.  <em>I hate secrets.</em></p>
<p>Norman’s face contorted.  “Does… Does that mean…”</p>
<p>“I am too,” Roman finished for him.  <em>And so is my kid</em>, he thought.  <em>At least potentially.  If she ever hurts herself… But I’m not going to let that happen.</em></p>
<p>“Was Marie…” Norman trailed off.</p>
<p>“Did Olivia kill her?” Roman said.  “I don’t know.  Is she capable of it?  What do you think?”  Resignation bloomed in Norman’s face.  “Anyway, fuck her,” Roman continued.  “I just want her to leave me alone.”</p>
<p>“You’re not,” Norman said.  “Alone, I mean.”</p>
<p><em>I know I’m not</em>, Roman thought.  He had Nadia, Lucy, Peter.  He looked at Norman’s face, the pleading look in his eyes.  <em>You’ve got to be kidding</em>, he thought.  <em>You want to play family </em>now<em>, Norman?!  </em>“Look, I really don’t have the bandwidth for this.”  He tossed the butt of his cigarette into the snow, and turned back to the door.</p>
<p>“I’m… I’m your father, Roman,” Norman called.</p>
<p>Roman smiled, bitterly.  <em>Good for you</em>, he thought.  <em>You finally grew a pair.  </em>“What’s it like to finally say that out loud?” he asked.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t sure,” Norman said.  “And yet, I always knew.  Denial.  Cognitive dissonance.  Adaptive traits in our family.  We’d all go fucking crazy otherwise.”</p>
<p>“Oh!  And none of us are crazy now?!”</p>
<p>“I should have admitted it to you a long time ago,” Norman pleaded. </p>
<p>“That you fucked your brother’s wife?”  <em>You don’t get to be the good guy, here</em>, Roman thought.  “Dumped Marie?  Destroyed your own family?  What?”</p>
<p>“I should have been a father to you somehow,” Norman whispered, his voice breaking.</p>
<p>“My father was a great man,” Roman said.  “He was a visionary.  He saved this town, and probably the county.  And I knew he always loved me.  So me not knowing?  You did me a favor.”  He turned and went back into the house.</p>
<p>Lucy was waiting for him, sitting on the stairs.  Roman felt comfort, a deep peaceful feeling that he wasn’t used to, at the sight of her. </p>
<p>“Are you okay?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Actually, yeah,” he said, as if he were surprised about it. </p>
<p>“When Peter gets out of the shower, I think we should go see Destiny,” she said.  “I know a way we can find out what the rest of the white masks are planning, but I’m going to need her help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You killed two people?!” Destiny howled. </p>
<p>“In self-defense!  They were from the dreams,” Peter said.</p>
<p>“I knew it!  I told you to stay away!” she shouted.</p>
<p>“Destiny, these people have killed at least six kids that we know about,” Lucy said.  “Six.  And one of them was the one that <em>I</em> pulled out of a fucking frozen lake.  I called the water out of his lungs, and they <em>still</em> killed him.  They won’t stop.  We can’t let this go on.  I am not going to sit on my ass while someone murders children.  I will not do that.  Now, I need your help.  Please.” </p>
<p>“I thought you said you’d only do this if you absolutely had to,” Destiny said.</p>
<p>“We passed the have-to situation a long time ago,” Lucy replied.</p>
<p>Destiny looked deeply into her eyes.  “Ok,” she said, at last.  “I’ll go fill up the bathtub.”</p>
<p>“You’re taking a bath?” Roman looked at Lucy, confused.</p>
<p>“Not really,” she said.  “You’re going to have to drown me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The four of them stood in Destiny’s bathroom, around the full bathtub.  Roman looked worried.  Lucy held his hand, trying to reassure him. </p>
<p>“So, how does this work exactly?” he asked.</p>
<p>“All water is connected,” Lucy said.  “Even the chlorinated stuff that comes out of the pipes.  I take the water inside me, and I can follow the path of the water to where they are.  It’s called watersight.”  She let go of Roman’s hand and sat on the side of the tub.  “There’s blood still on the knife, right?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Peter replied.</p>
<p>“Okay, give it to me.  Their blood’s made of water too.  It’ll help me find them.”</p>
<p>Peter handed her the knife, and Lucy dropped it, blade first, into the water.  She moved onto her knees onto a stack of cushions that Destiny piled next to the tub.  She faced the water.</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said.  “Here’s the deal.  I’m probably going to fight you.  My body still wants to breathe air, so until the water and my spirit find each other, my instincts are going to think I’m drowning.  But no matter what happens, you have to hold me under.  Understand?” </p>
<p>Destiny and Peter, nodded.  Roman was staring at the floor, chewing a thumbnail.  “Roman,” she said.  He looked up at her, his eyes full of worry.  “I’m going to be fine.  Even if it doesn’t look that way.  I can’t drown, remember?” </p>
<p>Roman nodded, but his face was troubled.  “Promise me, okay?”</p>
<p>“Y-yeah,” Roman said.</p>
<p>“Destiny, I’ll need you to help him remember,” she said.</p>
<p>“No problem,” she replied.</p>
<p>Lucy smiled at them.  “Listen, I’ll probably come out of this better than I went in, so trust me okay?  Here we go.” </p>
<p>Lucy felt their hands on her shoulders and back.  She closed her eyes, breathed deep, and dunked forward into the water.  She forced herself to blow all the air out of her lungs.  She opened her mouth, letting the water pour into the back of her throat.  And then her lungs wanted air.  They began to burn.  She tried to quiet her mind, to let the water in, but her brain was filled with only the screaming need for air, AIR, AIR, AIR!</p>
<p>Above the water, Roman, Peter, and Destiny held her.  Lucy began to try to push herself up out of the water, but they held her fast.  Her arms flailed and splashed.  Her legs kicked like panicked fish tails. </p>
<p>“Oh God,” Roman said.  “We’re fucking drowning her!  We have to stop!”</p>
<p>“She knows what she’s doing,” Destiny said.  “You can’t let go.  Just hold on.”</p>
<p>“Remember the lake,” Peter said.  “She’ll be okay.”</p>
<p>Roman held on, trying to keep the panic from taking over, trying to trust their words, trying to trust Lucy.  Then Lucy went rigid, as if every muscle in her body clenched at once.  Then the tension melted from her, and she relaxed in the water.  Her back expanded and contracted.  She was fucking <em>breathing</em>.  Breathing water.</p>
<p>Below the water, Lucy opened her eyes.  She felt the water inside her, in her lungs, in her eyes, in her mind.  She flowed within it, following it.  She followed the river, the rain, the wet blood of the white mask.  She swam through its currents and found…</p>
<p>
  <em>A warehouse, hanging plastic</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A man testing a crossbow</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A bulletin board.  Pictures of newborn babies with membranes covering their faces.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Red X’s over the faces of some of the babies</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Photos of children hanging on strings.  Babies, toddlers, young children, marked with names and addresses.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>More red X’s over faces.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The strings led to one fixed point.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Names of places chalked on the floor.  Buffalo.  Utica.  Brookhaven.  Hemlock Grove.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Men talked… “holy slaughter of the innocents… she will help us when the time…”</em>
</p>
<p>The images began to fade.  Lucy withdrew.  She pulled back through currents.  Back and back and back to herself.  Back to the water in her lungs.  The water filled her with strength, and she pushed out of the bathtub hard enough to throw all four of them backward two feet.</p>
<p>“Shit!” she heard Roman. </p>
<p>She tipped her face over the edge of the tub and released all the water from her lungs, a torrent rushing from her mouth.  And when her lungs were empty, she pulled in a great rattling breath of air.  She coughed out the last remnants of water inside her. </p>
<p>Roman was instantly at her side, swiping water from her eyes and cheeks.  “Are you alright?” he asked. </p>
<p>“I feel like a million bucks,” she chuckled.  “I know what they’re looking for.  A child.  One specific child.  I heard someone say ‘slaughter of the innocents.’”</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Roman asked.</p>
<p>“It’s the story of Herod,” Peter explained.  “He heard a child was born that was a threat to his power.  He murdered all the children in Bethlehem trying to find the one.”</p>
<p>“How many more are they gonna kill?” Roman asked</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Lucy replied.  “They had photographs of babies with membranes on their faces.  Babies born with the caul…”</p>
<p>“The caul,” Roman breathed.  He wide eyes looked terrified.</p>
<p>“What?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“The caul,” he repeated.  “The white mask girl say it as she was dying.  I just didn’t realize.”  He looked at Lucy.  “Nadia was born with one.”</p>
<p>“They’re after the baby,” Peter said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lucy woke about an hour after they’d gone to bed.  She was alone. </p>
<p>Roman was so very tired.  He’d taken his Tefnut drop and collapsed into bed.  She was shocked he had the energy to get out of bed before morning.</p>
<p>She walked up the stairs, and into the nursery, where she found Roman.  He was sitting on the floor in the dark, holding Nadia in his arms.  He was looking into her little face.  Lucy’s heart squeezed inside her at the sight of them.  “You’re holding her,” she said.  She’d never seen him do that before.</p>
<p>Roman looked up at her in the doorway.  “I needed to,” he said.  “We have to stop this.  We have to find the warehouse.  There’s one right on the river bend.  You found it through the water.  That’s got to be it.” </p>
<p>“When do you want to do this?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Now,” he said.  His voice was so very tired.</p>
<p>“Roman,” she said.</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“You haven’t slept in almost three days,” she said.</p>
<p>“No,” he agree.  “But they’re going to figure out where the baby is.”</p>
<p>“How?” she asked.  “They don’t even know she’s alive.”</p>
<p>“I can’t risk it,” he said.</p>
<p>“We can’t just rush in,” she said.  “We need a plan.”</p>
<p>“Let me think on it,” he whispered.  “Just a minute.”  He was asleep before ten seconds had passed, his chin resting on his chest where Nadia’s little hand lay. </p>
<p>Her heart ached for him.  She carefully pulled Nadia from his arms, and laid her in the crib.  She left the nursery for a moment and returned with the pillows and blanket from Roman’s bed.  She helped slide Roman sideways down onto the pillow, unfolding his long legs.  She lay beside him and covered them both.  Just before the closed her eyes, she caressed his face, and kissed his so-soft sleeping lips.  “I love you,” she whispered.  “You’re a good father.” </p>
<p>They slept on the floor of the nursery all night.  It was the first night Nadia slept all the way through without waking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Fate Has A Terrible Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman woke to the sounds of Nadia babbling in her crib.  He wasn’t sure where he was, at first, only that Lucy was curled against him.  He opened his eyes to find they were on the floor in Nadia’s room.  Lucy had made a make-shift bed for them.  He must have passed out in the nursery.  He’d spooned up against her back sometime during the night.  His nose was buried in the soft rose scent of her hair, and his arm was draped around her waist.  His hand cupped a breast.  <em>Jesus, I can’t even stay away from her tits in my sleep, </em>he thought. </p>
<p>He gave her breast a soft squeeze, pressing his hips against her ass, kissing the nape of her neck. </p>
<p>“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mr. Godfrey,” she said, her voice muffled and sleepy.  “I don’t want to traumatize the baby.”</p>
<p>Roman laughed into her hair.  He squeezed his arm tighter around her.</p>
<p>Nadia stood against the bars of her crib, beginning to whine.  “I’d better feed her majesty,” Lucy said, starting to rise.</p>
<p>Roman groaned, dramatically.  He sat up and looked at Nadia.  “You’re cramping my style, kiddo,” he joked.  She gave him a gummy grin.  “She thinks she can ‘cute’ her way out of trouble,” he said.</p>
<p>“Just like Daddy,” Lucy said to Nadia.  She lifted the baby from the crib.  “Hey, you slept through the night, pumpkin!  Who’s a big girl?”  She held Nadia on her lap in the rocker, lifted her t shirt over a bare breast, and began feeding her. </p>
<p>Roman watched them snuggled in the chair, Nadia’s hand bunched in Lucy’s shirt, Lucy caressing her hair, and he felt himself smile.  <em>This is what family is supposed to feel like</em>, he thought.</p>
<p>His phone buzzed in his pocket.  He hadn’t even taken it out last night.  <em>Need to charge it,</em> he thought.  <em>This thing must be on its last legs.</em>  He saw he had a missed text from Peter in the middle of the night.  <em>God, I must have been really dead to the world</em>, he thought.  He opened the text:</p>
<p>
  <strong>Recon at the warehouse.  Call you later.</strong>
</p>
<p>It was eight o’clock in the morning!  Why hadn’t he called yet?</p>
<p>“I think Peter went to the warehouse,” he said.</p>
<p>“What?” Lucy asked.</p>
<p>“I’m going to try him again,” he said. </p>
<p>Roman left the nursery and walked out into the hallway.  Peter’s number went straight to his voicemail.  “Peter, where are you?  I got your half-assed message.  You better not try to do this without me.  Call me back.”</p>
<p>He tried Destiny’s number, and got a voicemail again.  He hung up, a frustrated breath leaking from between his teeth.  He went back into the nursery. </p>
<p>“Any luck?” Lucy asked, Nadia still at her breast.</p>
<p>“No,” Roman said.  “Not with him or Destiny.  I’m worried.”</p>
<p>“He’s probably sleeping,” Lucy said.  “You were three days without sleep, but Peter had gone at least two.  That’s probably why Destiny’s not answering either.  She’s got her phone off to let him rest.  Let’s wait and see if he calls back.”</p>
<p>Roman nodded.  It made sense.  And even after getting his Tefnut drop and a night’s sleep, he still felt zapped.  It’d be at least a couple of days before he felt right again.  He put his back to the wall, and slid down to the floor, his face in his hands.  “This is so fucked up,” he said.</p>
<p>“I know,” Lucy replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roman was in the shower when Lucy got the blocks out to play with Nadia.  She sat on the carpet opposite Nadia, who was babbling happily.  Lucy dumped the blocks onto the floor.  She took three of the blocks and laid them in order in front of the baby.  “See.  A B C.  Letters, pumpkin,” she said, pointing to each one.  Then she sang the ABC song.  Nadia babbled along, picking up blocks and clapping them together. </p>
<p>Lucy took a blanket from the shelf, and held it in front of her face.  “Peekaboo!” she cried, dropping the blanket. Nadia giggled as she clapped the blocks and moved them around the carpet.  Lucy did it again.  “Peekaboo!  Peekaboo!”  Nadia reached a chubby hand forward and grasped the blanket, pulling it down.  Lucy cried, “Peekaboo!  You found me!” </p>
<p>Nadia pointed down to the blocks.  Five wooden pieces were lined where the ABC had been.  The blocks spelled N-A-D-I-A. </p>
<p>Lucy’s stomach was filled with ice.  She dropped the blanket.  She stared at the blocks, and then into Nadia’s blue in blue eyes.  “Did you do that?” she whispered.  The baby only stared back.</p>
<p>Lucy pulled more blocks together, flipped them, mixed them with her hands.  She looked at Nadia.  “Can you do it again?” she asked.  “Can you spell Nadia?”</p>
<p>The baby looked down at the blocks, babbling, turning her head this way and that.  She began moving blocks with her tiny hands, turning them over, lining them up.  N-A-D-I-A. </p>
<p>“Holy shit,” Lucy breathed.  “Sorry, pumpkin.  Don’t say bad words.”  Lucy mixed up the blocks again.  “Can you spell my name?” she asked, pointing to herself.  “Who am I?”</p>
<p>Nadia babbled.  “Mamamama,” she said, gummily.  She picked up blocks, clapping them together.  She turned them, chewed on the corner of one, lined them up again.  M-A-M-A. </p>
<p>Lucy sucked in breath.  She didn’t know what she was feeling.  Fear?  Awe?  Pride?  Confusion?  All of the above? </p>
<p>Roman walked into the nursery dressed in his black pants and deep gray sweater.  He must have seen the shock on Lucy’s face.  “What’s wrong?” asked.  “Did Peter call you?”</p>
<p>“No,” she said.  She reached up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him hard down to the floor with her.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?!” he barked.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” she said.  She mixed the blocks and turned to Nadia.  “Nadia, pumpkin?  Who is this?”  She pointed at Roman.  “Can you spell who this is?  Who is this?”</p>
<p>“Dadada,” Nadia babbled. </p>
<p>Roman’s mouth dropped.  “Did she just say Dada?” </p>
<p>“Just wait,” Lucy said.  “Watch.  I want to see if she’ll do it again.”</p>
<p>Nadia gripped the blocks with her little fingers, turned them, flipped them over, lined them up a third time.  D-A-D-A.</p>
<p>Roman’s eyes were so wide, Lucy wouldn’t be surprised if the eyeballs actually fell out of the sockets.  “What the fuck?” he murmured.</p>
<p>“Don’t say bad words, pumpkin,” Lucy said to Nadia. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now Lucy was in the shower.  Cryptkeeper Anna was with Nadia for the moment.  Roman sat on the lid of the toilet, talking to Lucy through the glass door of the shower.</p>
<p>“But how is that possible?” he asked.  “She can spell?!  She can’t <em>talk</em> for fuck’s sake?!”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Lucy said, rinsing her hair.  “Magic?  Maybe she’s a genius like Mozart or Pascal?  It’s amazing!  And she said ‘Dada!’”  Lucy failed to mention she’d also said “Mama.”  She didn’t plan on telling Roman that.  If an “I love you” freaked him out, <em>his</em> daughter calling <em>her</em> Mama would probably send him over the edge.</p>
<p>“Yeah, she said ‘Dada,” Roman smiled.  He thought I moment.  “I think maybe I ought to go to the White Tower.  I could check on Shelley, maybe ask Pryce if he has any experience with super-powered kids.”</p>
<p>Lucy twisted off the water, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself.  “You sure?  Isn’t he Dr. Fuckenstein?”</p>
<p>“He is,” Roman said.  “But he already knows about Nadia.  He gave her all her check-ups so far.  I can’t exactly take to her the upir pediatrician.  I won’t be gone long.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said.  “I’ll stay with Nadia.  I’ll call you if I hear from Peter or Destiny.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” he replied.  He cupped her face and kissed her mouth before he turned and left.</p>
<p>Roman patted the front and back pockets of his pants.  No phone.  He must have left it in the nursery. </p>
<p>Anna was waiting for him in the living room.  “Mr. Godfrey,” she said.</p>
<p>“Anna, have you seen my…”  She cut him off by holding his phone out to him.  “Phone,” he finished.  “Thanks.”  He took it from her, and stuck it in his pocket.  “I’ll be at the White Tower for a while,” he said.  “Lucy will be staying with Nadia.”</p>
<p>“Very good, sir,” she said.  And she actually smiled.  Maybe Lucy was wrong.  Maybe the Cryptkeeper could grow a heart too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roman passed Pryce leaving Shelley’s room as he was coming in.  “Pryce,” he said.  “I’d like to talk to you later, when you have some time.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Pryce said, and turned without another word.  Was he crying?</p>
<p>Roman entered Shelley’s room.  Her face lit up at the sight of him.  “Roman,” she said.  He still wasn’t used to hearing her voice yet, and the sound of it caused the return of that movement in his chest that was becoming more and more commonplace.</p>
<p>“Hey,” he said.  He sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her.  “I missed you.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” she said.  “I’m feeling much better.”</p>
<p>It was amazing how much quicker and smoother her word had become.  “That’s good,” he said.  “Before you know it, you’ll be able to come home with me.”</p>
<p>A shadow passed across her face.  “Yeah,” she said.  “That would be nice.”</p>
<p>“Are you ok?” he asked.  He could always read Shelley so well.  She didn’t look sad, exactly, more… Longing?  Wistful?  He couldn’t think of the right word.  Something had happened, and she wasn’t telling him everything.  “If something’s wrong, you can tell me,” he said.</p>
<p>“Nothing’s wrong,” she said.  “I think everything’s going to be okay from now on.”  She smiled that beautiful smile.  “So, how’s your girlfriend?”  Shelley grinned at the word.</p>
<p>Roman chuckled at her and shook his head.  “She’s fine.  She’s at home with...”  He trailed off for a moment, and then decided that Shelley was the last person he wanted to keep a secret from.  “She’s at home with the baby.”</p>
<p>Shelley’s face fell into a mask of shock.  “You have a baby?!” she gasped.  “You and Lucy?!”</p>
<p>“No, no,” he said, laughing at her expression.  “She’s Letha’s baby.  I’ve adopted her.”  It was close enough to the truth, but Roman still felt a little rotten about it.</p>
<p>“I thought she was dead,” Shelley exclaimed.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Roman said.  “I wanted to keep it that way.  To protect her from Olivia.”  He watched Shelley’s brow furrow.  “She wanted to hurt her when she was born.  It’s hard to explain…”  He trailed off.  “I know you think she’s changed.  But you haven’t seen what I’ve seen.”</p>
<p>He was quiet.  Shelley mulled over what he’d said.  There was more, she knew.  But she wouldn’t push him.  After all, who was she to judge about keeping things hidden?</p>
<p>“So I’m an Aunt,” she said, and Roman grinned again.</p>
<p>“Yes you are,” he said.  “Auntie Shelley.”</p>
<p>“What’s her name?”</p>
<p>“Nadia.”</p>
<p>“Nadia,” Shelley repeated.  “I like that.” </p>
<p>They sat in companionable silence for a while.  Then Shelley began to sing-song at him:  “Roman and Lucy sitting in a tree…”</p>
<p>He bumped her shoulder with his.  “Shut up, jerk,” he chuckled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roman found Pryce on Sublevel 5 beside the Franken-Tank.  It was still full of cloudy liquid, but the blonde mermaid creature was gone. </p>
<p>“Where is she?” Roman asked, gesturing to the tank.</p>
<p>“Preparing for an important procedure,” Pryce returned, and didn’t elaborate further.</p>
<p> Roman rolled his eyes.  He was used to getting the brush off from Pryce, but, this time, he honestly didn’t care.  “I wanted to talk to you,” he said, “about Nadia.”</p>
<p>“What?  Is she sick?” Pryce asked.  The monitor in front of Pryce beeped, loudly.  He frowned and turned to it.</p>
<p>“Not exactly,” Roman continued.  “She did something today that… well, I’m not sure…”</p>
<p>The monitor beeped again.  “What is going on?” Pryce muttered to himself.  “I’m getting cellular interference.  Is your phone ringing, by any chance?”</p>
<p>Roman reached for the phone in his pocket.  “No, it hasn’t gone off…”  He stopped short when he looked at the screen.  Missed calls from Peter and Lucy.  Texts from Peter.</p>
<p>
  <strong>They know about Nadia</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>They know about Nadia</strong>
</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” Roman whispered.</p>
<p>“What?” Pryce asked.  “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p><em>They’re coming, and I’m not strong enough.  I need help</em>, Roman thought.  <em>I need help.  I need…</em></p>
<p>
  <em>The shit’s like high test jet fuel…  I could have turned over a car by myself…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now tell me how much you don’t need this power…</em>
</p>
<p>Roman looked frantically around the lab until he saw what he wanted.  He snatched a glass funnel and a length of tubing from beneath a fume hood near Pryce. </p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Pryce asked.</p>
<p>Roman ran to the vault door.  “Open it,” he said.</p>
<p>“Roman, if you need a treatment…”</p>
<p>“Right FUCKING NOW!” Roman screamed.</p>
<p>Pryce jumped.  He pressed his palm to the lock, and the door opened with a vacuum sound.</p>
<p>Roman approached the nutrient tank.  He fitted the end of the tubing to the funnel, and capped the funnel over the tank’s spigot. </p>
<p><em>Been awhile since I beer-bonged</em>, Roman thought.  <em>But it’s like riding a fucking bike.</em></p>
<p>He put the other end of the tubing into his mouth, pushing it as far back into his throat as he could without gagging.  He took a deep breath, and pulled the tank’s lever.  Nutrient gushed through the tubing and down his throat.  Roman opened his gullet without breathing and let flow in, barely swallowing, letting it fill his insides. </p>
<p>It hit him like a Mack truck.  Power vibrated into every cell.  He could do anything.  He could run the length of the world.  He fucking <em>fly</em> if he wanted to.  This is what it felt like to be a god.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roman still wasn’t answering.  Lucy felt better with Peter and Destiny at the house, but she needed to know he was alright.  They needed a plan.  If the white masks were coming, where would they go?  What could they do?</p>
<p>Lucy finished bandaging Peter’s wounds.  She’d sutured several of his deep cuts on his chest with the kit she carried in her bag.  She’d had to do them on herself before.  It was hard to explain her blood to an ER doc.   She’d just finished the last gauze covering when the doorbell rang. </p>
<p>Destiny went to answer the door.</p>
<p>“Is it Roman?” Lucy asked.</p>
<p>“No,” Destiny replied, and she returned to the living room with an older gentleman.  They were whispering to each other.  Lucy had never seen him before, but he definitely reminded her of Nicholae. </p>
<p>“Who’s this?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“I think you should listen to him,” Destiny said.  “Because you sure as hell aren’t listening to me.”</p>
<p>“How many times have you turned against the cycle?” the man asked Peter.</p>
<p><em>Oh Jesus</em>, Lucy thought.</p>
<p>“What have you told him about me?” Peter seethed at Destiny.</p>
<p>“Everything,” she replied. </p>
<p>The man pulled open his shirt and leaned down to show Peter his chest.  A set of long vertical scars lined both sides of his sternum.  <em>Claw marks</em>, Lucy thought.</p>
<p>“A gift from my father,” the man said.  “He turned on wrong moons.  The look in your eyes is the same as his was.  Your body is deteriorating…”</p>
<p>“Get the hell out of here,” Peter said, standing up.</p>
<p>“We’re trying to help you,” Destiny pleaded.</p>
<p>“What the fuck, Destiny?!” Peter shouted.  “How could you be so goddamn stupid?  Those butchers are out there hunting Nadia, and you think this is best possible moment to stage some sort of bullshit vargulf intervention?”</p>
<p>“Now is the only chance that you have,” she said, her voice breaking.  “Please, you have to go with him because it’s beyond my powers to help you anymore.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna be no good to anyone if you’re dead,” she replied.  Destiny grasped his arms, desperately.</p>
<p>“Just get the fuck off me!” he screamed, shoving her away, knocking her into the chair.</p>
<p>“Peter, stop!” Lucy cried.  Her voice seemed to break him out of his rage.</p>
<p>He looked at Destiny like a kicked puppy.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  He fell to his knees in front of her.  He held her hand and pressed his forehead against it.  Destiny ran her hands through his long hair.</p>
<p>The man spoke again, calmly.  “The gift you were given has been perverted.  If you call on the wolf again, you will belong to him, unable to return.”  Peter looked up at him, and the man’s eyes were filled with sympathy.  “We don’t have much time,” he said.  “Let me help you.”</p>
<p>A shouting voice suddenly shook Lucy from the tableau in front of her.  It was Conway.  He was shouting at them.  “You people have no business here!” he raved.  “This is a home, not a frat house!  So you people…”  He never finished.  A crossbow bolt came through the window and buried itself in his chest, stapling him to the wall.</p>
<p>They looked around, frantically.  Lucy saw the hole in the living room window just as Peter noticed the red laser dot in the middle of her chest.  He football tackled her into the couch as another bolt whizzed by them. </p>
<p>“They’re here!” she cried.</p>
<p>“Go to the baby’s room,” Peter said.  He pushed Lucy and Destiny toward the stairs.  “Lock yourselves in right now.”</p>
<p>“But what about…” Destiny started.</p>
<p>“Just do it!” Peter shouted.</p>
<p>Shadow figures with crossbows moved across the front windows.  Arrows whistled by Lucy and Destiny as they ran up the stairs.  The glass front door shattered.  White masks poured through the opening, training their laser sites on Peter and the old gypsy man.  They fired at both, missing Peter, but striking the old man in the chest. </p>
<p>Lucy slammed the electronic door as soon as she and Destiny were inside with Nadia, barely missing a white mask that had followed them up the stairs.</p>
<p>Peter pulled the crossbow bolt from Conway’s chest, slinking behind a white mask in the doorway of Roman’s bedroom, and driving the bolt into his back.  He turned the corner in time to see more white masks coming through the basement door.  He dodged a bolt that brushed past his cheek, slicing the flesh.  A white mask followed him into the bedroom, and Peter used a floor lamp to knock the crossbow from his hands.  He tried another strike with the lamp, and was blocked by the white mask.  The mask landed a right hook to his jaw, knocking him to the floor.  He seized Peter by the hair and pulled him to his knees.  Another white mask entered the room.  “Take his head,” the mask hissed.</p>
<p>Peter saw a long hunting knife appear, his head still swimming from the hit.  There was no time.  If he tried the change now, they’d hack his head off before it would be complete.  The knife was coming closer.  He could think of no way out of this.</p>
<p>And then he heard a wet thwack.  The mask with the knife collapsed to his knees, and then to the floor.  Behind him, was Roman, his eyes blown black.  His ancient battle axe was buried in the mask’s back.  Roman wrenched it from his spine, and turned on the other mask. </p>
<p>Roman blocked several of the mask’s knife swipes with the axe handle.  He turned the axe, and buried the spike at the end of the handle into the mask’s leg.  The mask let out a groan of pain.  It filled Roman with dark pleasure.  He tossed the axe away.  He wanted to take this fucker with his bare hands.  The mask tried slicing at him again.  Roman blocked his arm, planted a hand in his chest and shoved him into the air.  The mask flew seven feet and slammed into the opposite wall of the bedroom, slumping to the floor.</p>
<p>Roman wheeled on Peter.  “Where are Lucy and the baby?!” he roared.</p>
<p>“Upstairs,” Peter said.  He was nearly cringing away from Roman.  He’d never seen him like this.</p>
<p>“Get them, and get the hell out of here!”</p>
<p>Peter didn’t hesitate.  He raced out of the bedroom to the stairs, taking them almost on all-fours.  He reached the top of the stairs, only to suddenly feel as if he’d been kicked in the chest, twice.  He looked down.  Two crossbow bolts protruded from him.  He looked up at the white mask who’d shot him, as his body crumpled to the floor. </p>
<p>Lucy held Nadia in her arms.  She had to think of a way out of this.  So far, nothing was coming to her.  They were safe here now, but how long would it take them to breach the door?  Destiny had a knife in her hand, but could they really fight them all off?  She caressed Nadia’s head.  “It’s okay, pumpkin,” she whispered.  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”</p>
<p>Destiny’s hand went to the door.  “What are you doing?” Lucy said.</p>
<p>“I have to see if Peter’s okay,” she said.</p>
<p>“Are you crazy?!” Lucy said.  “They’ll kill you!”  Destiny looked apologetic for a moment, and then opened the door.  “Destiny, stop!” Lucy cried, but she was already out, shutting the door behind her.</p>
<p>Two white masks were just outside the door.  Destiny drove her knife at one of them.  He blocked her blade and called to the other mask.  “Grab the child!” </p>
<p>The mask jabbed Destiny in the cheek, throwing her backward.  She turned, trying to rush him again, and took a forward kick to the stomach, dropping her to the floor.  The mask pulled his own knife, ready to strike.  Destiny took her knife in hand, and stabbed upward, burying the blade in the soft meat of his genitals.  He screamed.  His partner ran to help him.  Destiny threw herself at him, knocking the crossbow from his hands.  She slashed her knife at him, but he blocked her arm and pulled her into a hip-throw, tossing her to the floor. </p>
<p>Peter watched helplessly from the ground.  “Leave her alone, you son of a bitch,” he hissed.</p>
<p>The mask kicked Destiny in the face, and Peter mustered his strength to push himself up to a crouched position.  He called the wolf, willing the change to start.  His muscles and bones cracked, contracted, and swelled.  The mask was strangling Destiny now, and Peter pushed the change further.  His spine warped and cracked.  His eyes glowed.  The roar of the wolf bubbled out from within him.  His flesh fell away in ribbons.  The wolf, finally free of his human cage, sprang on the mask, knocking him away from Destiny, tearing flesh, reveling in the screams.  The monster was loose.</p>
<p>Downstairs in the bedroom, the mask rushed forward, trying to stab Roman with his knife.  Roman blocked the mask’s blow, easily, shattering the bones in the man’s wrist. </p>
<p>Roman was made of rage.  This wasn’t the dragon emerging within him.  He <em>was</em> the dragon.</p>
<p>He threw the mask into the wall and began screaming.  “You come into my house?!”  He gripped the mask’s skull, pulled him back, and knocked the back of his head into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.  “To kill my child?!”  Roman hooked his fingers beneath the mask’s black hood and pulled it away, exposing the man’s throat and wrenching his head to the side.  Roman opened his mouth, wide, wide, impossibly wide, and clamped his jaws like a sprung bear trap over the man’s neck. </p>
<p>Again, that delicious tearing, the spouting red, the screaming in his ear, and the unbridled joy of killing, of destruction.  He was a monster, and it felt like freedom.</p>
<p>The top window of the nursery crashed inward.  A man in with a crossbow, unmasked, wriggled through the opening, and dropped to the carpet.  Lucy clouted him with a snow globe from Nadia’s toy shelf.  It didn’t make the impression she was hoping for.  The man turned and brought his fist up in a harsh upper-cut to Lucy’s jaw.  She saw black stars in her eyes with the impact, and fell backward knocking over the toy shelves.  She landed on her back next to Nadia, who was sitting on the carpet surrounded by her blocks. </p>
<p>Roman reached the nursery door, battle axe in hand.  The keypad had been pulled from the wall, wires exposed.  He tried the code, but nothing happened.  All the lines had been cut.  He began ramming his shoulder into the door, using his heightened strength to try and force it open.  It wouldn’t budge.  “Motherfucker,” he growled, turning his battle axe on the door, chopping and driving his way through.</p>
<p>The man with the crossbow stepped over Lucy, she caught his leg, trying to trip him, but he kicked her hands away, and gave her another kick to the stomach for her trouble.  The wind rushed out of her lungs.  She could hear rhythmic pounding at the door.</p>
<p>Time seemed to slow.  Lucy saw Nadia lining up blocks.  The man pointed his site at the baby’s forehead.  Lucy heard the man speak, but couldn’t make out what he said.  She didn’t care.  She only cared about Nadia, Nadia who fed at her breast, Nadia who she had named, Nadia to whom she’d given all the love she wanted to give her own baby, born tiny and red like a baby bird.</p>
<p>And then she heard a voice.  All sound in the room went quiet.  It reminded Lucy of being under water, the empty, muffled, womb-like sound of the deep.  And in that deep, a deep inside her own mind, came the voice.  It was a whisper, like a child’s voice.  <em>Mama</em>, it said. </p>
<p>Slow, slow, everything was so slow.  And Lucy knew immediately that Nadia was speaking to her.  Speaking inside her.  She looked at the baby, at the red laser point on her head, and then looked at her blocks.  Nadia had lined up five blocks at her feet.  W-A-T-E-R.</p>
<p><em>Mama</em>, the voice repeated.  <em>Mama, call water.</em></p>
<p>Call the water?  What water?  How could she…</p>
<p>Of course.  She’d never even attempted anything like it before, but there was no more time.</p>
<p>Lucy reached out her hands, palms open, toward the man, and she began to pull, to call the water with every bit of strength inside her.  Calling and pulling until it felt like her very cells were ripping apart, her spirit and her voice screaming in agony.</p>
<p>The man stiffened, as if his entire body were racked with rigor mortis.  Tiny droplets of water began to drift from every part of him, his eyes, nose, mouth, ears.  They hung in the air as if there were no gravity in the room.  Great beads of sweat formed on his skin, and then lifted off, joining the circling cloud of liquid that surrounded him.  He seemed to shrink, to shrivel in on himself, his tissues thinning, wrinkling, cracking.  More and more water poured from his skin and orifices, until the man resembled something like a mummified raisin. </p>
<p>And then Lucy let go.  The husk of the man fell to the floor with a thud.  The cloud of floating water splashed down onto the carpet, soaking everything.  Lucy collapsed, the energy sapped from every muscle within her.  She couldn’t lift her head or arms even if she wanted to.</p>
<p>The soundproof door splintered inward, and the pounding became cracking as the rest of the door disintegrated.  The remains of the door flew open, and Roman rushed into the room.  There was blood covering his mouth and chin.  It had splashed and dripped down his gray sweater.  He was holding a battle axe. </p>
<p><em>Of course he has a battle axe</em>, Lucy thought, crazily.  <em>I’m in love with a knight in fucking shining armor.</em></p>
<p>Roman looked at the scene in front of him in shock.  Nadia was babbling with her blocks as if nothing had happened.  Lucy lay on the carpet, awake, but not moving.  The carpet was soaked through with water almost all the way to the door, and in the middle of the room lay a mummified corpse that looked like it has been in the desert for a hundred years.  “Are you okay?” he asked Lucy, breathless. </p>
<p>“I will be,” she whispered.  “I called the water… like a fucking boss.”  Her eyes fell shut.  “It was Nadia’s idea.”  Her breathing evened out, and Roman realized she’d passed out.</p>
<p><em>Called the water</em>, he thought.  <em>Out of </em>him<em>?</em></p>
<p>He lifted Nadia from the floor, wrapping his arms around her.  “I love you so much,” he said.  He’d never said it before, and he suddenly knew what Lucy meant.</p>
<p><em>It feels good to feel it, so it feels good to say it</em>…</p>
<p>He looked down at Lucy, sleeping soundly, breath evenly, as if they weren’t even there.  He kissed Nadia’s forehead.  She <em>was</em> loved, and she had at least two people willing to do anything to protect her.</p>
<p>Roman was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of snarling.  Destiny was backing into the nursery.  Peter, in his wolf form, was stalking her, his fangs bared, his jaws dripping with blood and pink foam.  “Why isn’t he changing back?” he asked Destiny.</p>
<p>“He can’t,” she cried.</p>
<p><em>Vargulf</em>, he thought.  </p>
<p>Roman pulled Destiny back toward him, handing the baby to her.  “Stay back,” he whispered. </p>
<p>He approached the wolf, bending low, looking into its eyes.  “Peter, it’s me,” he spoke evenly, trying not to spook it.  “Don’t do this.”  The wolf stalked toward him, still growling low in its throat.  It snarled again, snapping its jaws.</p>
<p>“Please, Peter,” Destiny whimpered. </p>
<p>Suddenly, it pounced at Roman.  Roman seized its muzzle, one hand gripping each side of its jaws. </p>
<p>He thought of the times he’d seen Peter change back from his wolf form, the blooming, the opening and falling away of the fur and flesh.  He’d thought it was beautiful.  Peter was still inside the wolf, somewhere.  He had to try to find him. </p>
<p>Roman pulled its jaws apart, cracking open its skull like a nut.  A canine whimper yipped from it.  He pulled farther, ripping viscera, blood flying.</p>
<p>“You’re killing him,” Destiny cried.  Nadia began to wail.</p>
<p>Roman pulled and pulled, with all the dragon strength that flowed within him.  The skull split in two pieces.  The throat peeled apart like a ripe fruit all the way to its forelegs.  Then Roman jammed his hand into the opening, through the meat and blood, between the bones.  His fingers slipped past hot, pulsing entrails, searching, groping, until at last he felt it.  Fingers.  Peter was alive.  Roman gripped his hand and pulled.  He pulled him up from the slippery, sucking interior of the wolf’s body, pulling the wolf-flesh away from around him, birthing him like a newborn.  Peter slid from the bloody wolf womb and plopped, naked and trembling, onto the wet carpet. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Still Point</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman and Peter tossed the body of another white mask into the back of the Godfrey Industries van.  Roman had “borrowed” it from the White Tower, and they’d lined the inside with plastic sheeting.  It didn’t help all that much.  Blood still pooled around the doors, and the snow next to the van looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. </p><p>“Now what,” Roman asked.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Peter replied.</p><p>Roman looked down at the last body that lay in the snow.  Fuckers.  They literally tried to kill almost everyone he loved.  And they killed his butler.  Conway had been hanging around since he was a kid.  Maybe he wasn’t a friendly guy.  Maybe Roman had literally never seen him smile.  But reliable and discreet help was hard to come by.  Frustrated, Roman punched the corpse in the throat.</p><p>“They’re not gonna get any deader,” Peter deadpanned.</p><p>“Fine,” Roman said. </p><p>They lifted the last carcass into the van, shoving in the feet before they closed the door.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re out of bleach,” Destiny said, as Peter and Roman walked back into the house.  They’d piled the linens, cushions, lamps, anything too broken or blood soaked to be salvageable onto plastic sheeting on the floor.  More plastic sheeting covered the shattered front door.  It was freezing in the house.  Destiny was on her hands and knees, rubber gloves over her hands, mopping up the blood streaks from the floor where the boys had dragged the bodies out.  Conway’s body still lay under the stairs.  Anna was crouched over him, weeping. </p><p>“Where’s Nadia?” Peter asked.</p><p>“She’s laying down with Lucy in Roman’s room.  Her room was freezing,” Destiny said.</p><p>“She’s still sleeping?” Roman asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Destiny replied.  She knew he was talking about Lucy.  “She’s totally wiped.”</p><p>“Did you know she could do that?” Peter asked.  He was thinking of the desiccated corpse they’d throw in the back of the van.  It felt like it weighed about forty pounds.</p><p>“No,” Roman said.</p><p>“I’ve never even <em>heard</em> of that,” Destiny said.  “A knew a rusalka could call water.  You know, I mean, make water do what they wanted, but just to a certain extent… nothing like that…  I think she’ll be out of commission for a while.  I can’t imagine how much energy she had to use to make that happen.”  Destiny looked up at Roman.  “If she hadn’t, though… She saved Nadia’s life.”</p><p>“I know,” he said.  He looked back toward the bedroom.  Lucy had been so weak, she couldn’t even sit up on her own power.  Roman had to carry her like a baby down the stairs and put her to bed.  She’d asked for water, and couldn’t even hold the glass.  He had to help her drink it.  Once the glass was empty, she was asleep again.  “I’d better go check on them,” he said.</p><p>Anna’s sobs echoed from underneath the stairs.  Roman felt a pang of guilt.  He’d actually forgotten she was there.  “He was a good Christian man,” she said, her hands resting on Conway’s chest.  “This shouldn’t have happened to him.  He deserves a proper burial.”</p><p>“Of course,” Roman said.  He looked at Peter.  <em>How the hell do I make that happen</em>, he thought.  “I’ll be back,” he said, walking back to the bedroom.</p><p>He opened the door softly, and found Lucy and Nadia both asleep, their faces turned toward each other.  Roman pulled off his gloves and moved to crouch next to Lucy’s side of the bed.  He caressed her hair, softly, thinking again of Snow White.  He bent, and kissed her cheek softly.  She stirred a bit, sighed, and eyes batted open.  She blinked at Roman bent over her, and a sleepy smile bloomed on her face.</p><p>“Hey,” she whispered.</p><p>“Hey,” he whispered back, his hand still combing through her hair.  “Feeling any better?”</p><p>“A little,” she whispered.  She nodded toward the baby next to her.  “I think she’s had a long day too.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, smiling at Nadia, and then his eyes turned dark.  “I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to her… if you hadn’t…”</p><p>“But I did,” she said.  “And we’re okay, or at least I will be.”</p><p>“How did you do it?” Roman asked.</p><p>“I don’t know,” she said.  “I’ve never done that before.  It’s hard to explain.  He was going to kill Nadia.  I looked down, and she’d spelled out “water” with her blocks, like she spelled things earlier.  And then I heard her, she was voice in my head.”  She saw Roman’s expression.  “I know it sounds crazy.  But she told me to call the water.  And then I remembered, you know, everyone’s <em>made</em> of water…”</p><p>“You heard her voice in your head?” Roman repeated.</p><p>“Yeah,” Lucy replied.  “You think I’m totally nuts, don’t you?” </p><p>Roman thought of the day Nadia pointed to the door before Lucy and Peter arrived, as if she sensed them coming.  He thought of her blue in blue eyes.  He thought of the blocks.  And then he randomly thought of Shelley, who used to glow when he touched her cheek.  He was upir.  Lucy was rusalka.  Nothing was impossible.</p><p>“No, I don’t think you’re nuts,” he said.  “Nadia’s special.  She always has been.”  He wanted to change the subject.  “I should bring you flowers, since you’re a hero.”</p><p>Lucy chuckled, sleepily.  “Have you ever given <em>anyone</em> flowers before?”</p><p>“No,” he said.  “But I’m sure I can figure it out.”  She smiled at him again, and he kissed her softly.  He couldn’t help himself.</p><p>“I’m so tired,” Lucy said, her eyes closing again.</p><p>“Sleep,” he said.  “I…”  Her breathing was already steady and even.  “I’ll be back later,” he whispered, and walked out, closing the door behind him.</p><p>When he walked back into the living room, Peter was sitting at the bar, while Destiny poured him a glass of orange juice.  She’d pulled a bowl of strawberries from the fridge as well.  Peter was munching them. </p><p>Roman looked at the strawberries and his heart squeezed again.  Maybe he should have told her, but she was asleep anyway.</p><p>He sat down next to Peter.  “They were after the baby the whole time?” Roman said.  “All the other murders were for nothing?  Why?”</p><p>“They thought they were making the world a better place,” Peter replied.</p><p>“We need to carry on like nothing happened.  Okay?” Roman said.  “Go home.  Get some sleep.  Be sure to show up late for work, otherwise Templar will know something’s screwy.”</p><p>“What about the bodies?” Peter asked.  They’d left the van down the country road from the house.</p><p>“I’ll handle it,” Roman replied. </p><p>“How?”</p><p>“I’ll figure something out.”</p><p>Peter said nothing.  He was too tired to argue.</p><p>“I’ll head to 7-Eleven, get some more bleach, finish up here, and then head to the diner,” Destiny said.  She put on her furry vest, and followed Peter toward the door.  She stopped next to Roman.  “What you did last night… saving him…”</p><p>“He would have done the same for me,” Roman said.</p><p>“Well, I guess I was wrong about you,” Destiny said.</p><p> </p><p>“What am I to do with you, Roman?” Pryce asked.  “This time you’ve really outdone yourself.  You roll up with a truckload of corpses and expect me to make them disappear?”</p><p>Roman pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Could you just fucking take care of it?” he spat.</p><p>“That’s no way for a man in your position to ask for a favor,” Pryce said.  Roman said nothing.  “Who were they?”</p><p>“I have no idea,” he said.  Pryce’s face called bullshit.  “They attacked my house, tried to kill me, my kid.”</p><p>“Why would they do such a thing?” Pryce asked.</p><p>“You’d have to ask them,” Roman replied.  “But I’m guessing even you don’t have the technology to do that.”</p><p>“Well, not yet,” Pryce said.</p><p>Roman just stared at him.  <em>You</em> are<em> Dr. Fuckenstein</em>, he thought.</p><p>“Let me hazard a guess,” Pryce continued, “that their weapon of choice was a bow of some sort.”</p><p>“How do you know that?” Roman asked.</p><p>“The bishop was found murdered with more arrows in him than Saint Sebastian,” Pryce said.  “Which means that his shares in the company…”  He trailed off.</p><p>“Are you going to help me or not?” Roman asked.</p><p>“I will clean up your mess,” Pryce conceded.  “But there will be certain conditions, to be named later.  But first and foremost, you must stop meddling in my work.  Do I have your word?”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Roman replied.  What choice did he have?  “I want to see my sister.”</p><p>“She’s in treatment at the moment.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The White Tower</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone falling</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rushing water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nadia crying</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rushing water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman screaming</em>
</p><p>“No!” Lucy cried, waking herself up.  The sound also woke Nadia, who began to cry.  Lucy wrapped her arms around Nadia and snuggled her into her chest.  She turned to lay on her back with the baby draped over her chest, when she saw Anna standing over her. </p><p>“Shit!” Lucy squeaked.  Then chuckled.  “Anna, you scared me,” she said.  Anna said nothing.  “Um, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Mr. Conway,” Lucy said.</p><p>“He was a good Christian man,” Anna said.  “It shouldn’t have been him.”</p><p>Lucy didn’t know what to say to that.  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.  Anna was creepy under usual circumstances, but Lucy was getting a serious nanny-from-The-Omen vibe from her. </p><p>“It wasn’t supposed to be him,” Anna croaked.  “It was supposed to be you.”</p><p>Lucy barely had time to register her words, when the Cryptkeeper snatched Nadia from her arms.  Nadia began to cry again.  Lucy tried to reach for her, but could barely hold her arms up.  She was just too weak.  Anna backed away from her with the baby, her lips peeled back over her teeth in a mirthless smile.</p><p>The horror descended on Lucy like an icy waterfall.  “It was you,” she whispered.  “You told them where she was.  You told them how to get in.  Why?”</p><p>“The unholy line ends here,” Anna spat.  “Those marked with the caul are monsters.  They must be destroyed.  Our only mistake was bringing a succubus like you into this house.”</p><p>“Please,” Lucy cried.  She tried to muster the strength to go after Anna, but collapsed from the bed onto the floor.  “Please, don’t hurt her.  She’s just a baby.”</p><p>“This is coming with me,” she replied.  She called Nadia “this.”  The word scared Lucy more than anything else.  “To the source of evil, the wicked idol, the Tower of Babel.”</p><p>“No, you can’t,” Lucy cried.</p><p>“Watch me, whore,” Anna hissed, and she was gone.  Lucy could hear Nadia’s screams echoing through the house. </p><p>“No!” Lucy screamed after them, but they were gone.</p><p>Lucy dragged herself to the nightstand, reaching up for her phone.  It seemed miles away.  When her groping fingers finally found it, she pulled it down to the floor, rolling onto her back.  She dialed Roman, sobbing.  It was Anna.  It was Anna the whole time.  And now she had Nadia.</p><p> </p><p>Roman crouched on the floor next to Shelley.  His sister was cradling the gutted corpse of Prycilla and weeping.  Great choking sobs wracked her body, and Roman could only watch through his own tears.  He’d seen Shelley cry before.  This was different.  This was beyond heartbreak and devastation.  This was something like desolation.  Or maybe there wasn’t even a word for what she was feeling, and there was nothing that Roman could do about it.</p><p>Norman stood over him.  Pryce was barking into his phone.  He barely noticed either of them until Norman spoke.  “This begins and ends with your mother.”  His voice sounded toneless and dead.  He walked away without another word. </p><p><em>You’re right Norman</em>, Roman thought.  <em>And it sounds like she’s broken you too.</em></p><p>Roman’s phone rang.  He answered it like a man sleep-walking.  He hadn’t even said hello when he heard Lucy’s frantic voice.</p><p>“She took Nadia!” Lucy cried.  “It was her!  She was the one!  And she took the baby!”</p><p>“Lucy?  What’s happening?  Where are you?  Where’s Nadia?”</p><p>“Anna!” Lucy cried.  “Anna told them where to find Nadia.  She told them how to get into the house.  She’s one of them!  She took Nadia!”  Lucy dissolved into sobs.  “She took Nadia, and I was too weak to stop her.”</p><p>Roman felt like his heart had stopped.  He thought of Anna handing him his phone before the attack, the smile on her face.  Then he thought of the fact that his phone never rang at all when the masks were on their way.  The bitch had turned everything off.  And they were already in the house by the time he got there.</p><p>“Where?” he said.  “Where is she taking her?”</p><p>“She said the Tower of Babel,” Lucy said.  “I think she meant the White Tower.  Oh God, Roman!  I had another dream, about someone falling from the tower.  I think she’s going to…”</p><p>“Hello?” Roman heard another voice, far away on the line.  It was Destiny back from her store run.  “Lucy?”</p><p>“I’m here!” Lucy shouted to her. </p><p>“Listen to me,” Roman said.  “Get Destiny and Peter and come to the White Tower.  We’ll find her.  We’ll stop her.”</p><p>“Okay,” Lucy said.  “Okay, I’m coming.”  Lucy hung up.</p><p>Destiny ran into the room.  “Lucy?!  What are you doing on the floor?  What happened?”</p><p>“Goddamn Cryptkeeper took Nadia,” she said. </p><p>“What?!” Destiny said.</p><p>“Anna.  She’s one of them.  She told them how to get into the house.”</p><p>“Oh God,” Destiny breathed.  “What do we do?”</p><p>“She’s taking her to the White Tower,” Lucy said.  “Get Peter.  Take him there.  Roman’s already there waiting.”</p><p>“What about you?” Destiny said.  “You can barely sit up.”</p><p>“Turn on the tub,” Lucy said.  “Turn on the tub, and help me get in it.”</p><p>Destiny ran to the bathroom, turning on the warm tap to the tub.  Lucy was fighting to stand.  Destiny put one of Lucy’s arms over her shoulders and tried to take much of her weight.  She tried to pull Lucy’s t-shirt over her head.  “No, fuck that,” Lucy said.  “Just help me get in.”  Destiny pulled her to the side of the tub.  Lucy sat on the lip, and let herself fall into the water, full dressed.  Her shoulder blades struck the opposite wall of the tub with a wet thud.</p><p>“Jesus, are you okay?” Destiny said. </p><p>“I will be,” Lucy said.  “Now get out of here.  Get Peter.  I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>Destiny ran for the front door, looking back once at Lucy as she slid down, disappearing below the water line as the tap ran on and on.</p><p> </p><p>Roman was frantic.  When the phone rang again, he answered if before the first ring ended.  “What?”</p><p>The security guard from the lobby was on the line.  “There are two people here to see you, Mr. Godfrey.  They say they know you, and it’s urgent.  Destiny and Peter Romantic.”</p><p>He could hear Peter’s voice over the line.  “It’s Rumancek, you twat.”</p><p>“Send them to level SB.  I’ll meet them at the elevators,” Roman said, hanging up.  <em>Why are they here without Lucy</em>, he thought.</p><p>“I can’t do that, sir,” the guard said.  “They don’t have clearance.”</p><p>Roman was incensed.  “I’m giving them clearance.”</p><p>“I need written authorization from Dr. Pryce.”</p><p>Roman could have chewed broken glass.  “See the name on the building?  That’s my name.  You stay right there, so I can fire your fucktard ass in person!”</p><p>He was in the lobby in a minute, screaming at the guard to the go fuck himself and call HR in the morning.  Peter and Destiny were there, but no Lucy.  “Where is she?  Where’s Lucy?”</p><p>“She’d said she’d meet us here,” Destiny said.  “Have you seen Anna and the baby?”</p><p>“No,” Roman said.  He was panicked.  He was lost.  What if Lucy was wrong about the dream and the Tower?  What if Anna had already killed her?  He couldn’t think about that.  He couldn’t.  That way was a black hole he’d never be able to crawl out of. </p><p>His phone rang again.  “What?!” Roman shouted into it.</p><p>“Mr. Godfrey,” the voice said.  Another guard.  “We just picked up the woman and the baby you described on surveillance footage.  They’re in the building.”</p><p>“Where?!  Tell me where!” he cried.</p><p>“We just lost her, sir.  We’re doing a floor-by-floor search as we speak.”</p><p>“State of the art building with a security apparatus more sophisticated than the embassy in fucking Baghdad and you have no idea where she is?!” Roman roared.</p><p>“She wasn’t issued a badge with a locator chip.”</p><p><em>Of course she wasn’t</em>, Roman thought.  <em>She was my own nanny.  She changed my diapers the same as Nadia.  Why wouldn’t I trust her?  How long had she been planning this?  How many times was she alone with Nadia, all along plotting her hurt her?</em>  There was a darker monster than him in his home all this time.</p><p>“You’re out of excuses!  Find her!” he shouted into the phone, jamming his finger on the hang up button.</p><p>“Roman!” a voice cried out to him.</p><p>It was Lucy.  She burst through the doors of the Tower, soaking wet.  Her leggings and long Stevie Knicks t shirt were wrinkled, sticking to her skin.  Her hair was dripping.  She was in sodden socks with no shoes.  Her Chevy was parked directly in front of the main doors.  Her driver’s door was hanging open.  She hadn’t even turned off the engine. </p><p>She threw herself into Roman’s arms.  He hugged her tightly, the water soaking through his shirt and pants.  It was freezing.  She’d come there drenched to the skin in the dead of winter, shoeless, with no coat.</p><p>“Lucy what the fuck happened to you?” Roman asked.</p><p>“Needed a pick me up,” she said, and didn’t elaborate.  “Did you find them?”</p><p>“Security says they’re in the building somewhere.  They’re searching now,” he said.</p><p>“We have to go to the roof,” Lucy said.  “Right now.  That’s where she’s going.  I saw it in the dream.”</p><p>They ran to the express elevators, Lucy’s socks squelching on the tile.  The elevator shot up to the top floor, near Roman’s penthouse.  When the doors opened, Roman led them sprinting to the roof access stairs, throwing open the door and taking the steps two at a time to the roof door. </p><p>The four burst through the roof door and found Anna holding Nadia.  She was standing near the roof’s edge.  Nadia was crying, loudly. </p><p>“Stay right there!” Anna shouted at them.  “Or I’ll drop her right now!”</p><p>“No wait!  Please!” Roman cried.</p><p>“You don’t want to do this,” Destiny tried speaking to her calmly, trying to deescalate.</p><p>“Don’t I?” Anna spat.  “The Godfreys are cursed.  They’re evil.  The caul is a sign.  God’s Warriors knew it.  The line must end here.”</p><p>“Don’t hurt her!” Roman shouted.  Then he collapsed unto his knees, pleading.  “Please,” he begged.  “Please, Anna, just give her to me.  I won’t tell anyone what happened.  It could be like it never was.  If you ever cared about me…”</p><p>Anna’s face became a mask of hate, teeth pulled back from her lips in a snarl, eyes blazing with madness.  “Never,” she said.  “I served the monsters, but I never cared.  How could I?  You are the devil.”</p><p>“Yes,” Roman pleaded.  “You can say I’m the devil.  But she’s not.  She’s not like me.  She’d just a baby.  Please.”</p><p>“Please,” Lucy breathed.</p><p>Anna turned her rage on Lucy.  “You!” she shrieked.  “Whore!  Usurper!  It should have been you!  Your blood.  Your death.  Well, Conway waits for me.  Just as Satan waits for <em>this</em>!”  She held up Nadia at the last word, one arm wrapped around the baby.</p><p>Anna stepped backwards, her heels hanging over the lip of the ledge for a moment, and then she leaned back, falling like a tree. </p><p>“No!” Roman and Peter screamed in unison.</p><p>Suddenly, Anna stopped.  She was hanging in mid-air, an impossible angle, with her heels still on the ledge, laying forty-five degrees out of over the open air.</p><p>“Get the baby!” Lucy screamed. </p><p>They all looked to her.  Lucy had both arms and open palms pointed at Anna, straining with effort.  Water droplets began to form and lift from Anna’s flesh, her eyes, her nose.  “Grab Nadia!” Lucy screamed.  “I can’t control it much longer!”</p><p>Peter vaulted the railing like a gorilla, bounding to the edge, and reaching for the baby.  He hooked the long-nailed fingers of both hands into the fuzzy fabric at the back of Nadia’s sleeper.  In the same moment, Anna raised her opposite hand, trembling and fighting against the force of Lucy’s power.  It held a pistol.</p><p><em>The same one from my dream</em>, Lucy thought.</p><p>Anna pulled the trigger with a deafening BLAM!  The bullet slammed into Lucy just below her ribcage, throwing her backward. </p><p>Her connection to Anna’s water severed, and gravity took the Cryptkeeper over the edge.  Nadia slipped out of her arm, and Peter hauled the baby into his chest by her sleeper, stepping back against the railing.  Anna fell end over end, screaming into the snowy blackness.</p><p>Lucy lay sprawled on her back on the freezing rooftop.  The pain was blinding.  She was already wet, but there was spreading warmth under her back and over her stomach.  <em>I’m bleeding</em>, she thought.  <em>I’m bleeding a lot.  </em>She could taste the watery pink blood in her mouth.  The pain and pressure inside her was making it hard to breathe.</p><p>And suddenly Roman was there.  He was holding her, pulling her into his lap.  “Lucy?!” he said.  He was trembling.  “Oh, God!”</p><p>“Here!” she heard Destiny say.  “Keep pressure.”  She’d taken off her fur vest and was pressing it hard over Lucy’s stomach wound.</p><p>“N.. Nadia…” Lucy tried.</p><p>“We got her.  She’s safe.”  It was Peter.  He was holding Nadia close in his arms.  He had a look in his eyes, something like pity.</p><p><em>It must be bad</em>, Lucy thought.</p><p>Her vision was getting hazy, focusing in and out.  Numbness was beginning to spread in her limbs.  <em>I think I might be dying</em>, she thought.</p><p>She looked up at Roman’s face.  He wore a mask of fear.  He cupped her cheek.</p><p>“Ro… Roman…”  It was all she could manage.  She tried to lift her hand to touch his face, the wrist on which she wore the bangle he’d given her, but she didn’t have the strength.  She wanted, oh she wanted to tell him everything.  That it would alright.  That Nadia was safe.  That she loved him.  That she thought she’d live forever and ever and never find anyone who made her feel whole the way he did.  That she didn’t want to leave him here.</p><p>“Lucy!” he cried.  His eyes looked huge and beautiful.  “Hey!  Hey!  You’re going to be alright.  Just hang on.  Stay with me.”  He was rambling.  His chin began to tremble.  Tears filled those amaranthine green eyes she’d fallen in love with, and spilled down his cheeks. </p><p>Lucy’s vision began to fade again.  He tapped her cheeks.  “No!” he said.  “No, Lucy, wake up!  Please, don’t leave me.”  Her eyes found his again.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”  His voice was breaking.  “I was afraid.  I was too afraid to say it out loud.  I love you, Lucy.”  A tear slipped sideways down her cheek.  “I told you I noticed your tits first, remember that?”  Lucy smiled, painfully.  “Well, it wasn’t,” Roman said.  “It was your smile.  I was trapped in a dark place and your smile pulled me out.”</p><p>Peter felt tears in his eyes boiling over.  It was too close to the last thing he’d said to Letha.</p><p>
  <em>Your smile makes the flowers grow, and your tits make them bloom…</em>
</p><p>Roman had never been so terrified in all his life.  He could face an army alone, but this was beyond him.  He’d been a coward so long, when all he wanted to be was a warrior, a knight, the way he’d pretended to be as a child.  Now he’d fought battles, been a hero, but all he remained was incomplete.</p><p>
  <em>To be a still point in the turning world in a warrior’s greatest feat…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We turn and turn like the fucking world.  It’s a lot change and lot of noise.  But loving you makes me feel still and quiet for a while…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You must make your heart still…</em>
</p><p> “I want to be still,” Roman said suddenly.  “You and Nadia are my still point.  I want you to be there with me as she grows up.  I want you here.  I love you.  You have to tell me how to help you, please.  You have to fight with me.”</p><p><em>Fight</em>, Lucy thought.  <em>I need… I need…</em> “W… Water,” Lucy said.</p><p>“You’re thirsty?” he asked.</p><p>“Nooo,” she drawled.  “Drown… drown me.”</p><p>“What?!” he said.</p><p>“Yes!” Destiny cried.</p><p>
  <em>The Una who bore you runs in your veins, as soon will the Welhik Hane…</em>
</p><p>“Welhik Hane!” she said.  “The Allegheny!  We put back the water in her veins!  It’s what gave her life.”</p><p>Roman’s mind raced.  Drowning her to save her?  Lucy talked before about letting the water fill her.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll probably come out of this better than I went in…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Needed a pick me up…</em>
</p><p>He thought of Prycilla in the tank.</p><p>“We have to get her to the basement!” Roman exclaimed.  “There’s a water tank.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman and Peter carried Lucy down to the elevator, holding pressure on her wound as the rose’ blood ran from her.  Her unconscious head lolled on Roman’s shoulder.  Destiny carried Nadia, who whimpered with her thumb jammed in her mouth.  She dialed Roman’s phone for him and held it to his mouth.</p><p>“Pryce!” he shouted.  “I need your help!  Meet us at Sublevel 5!  It’s an emergency!”</p><p>Pryce was there when the elevator doors opened.</p><p>“My God, what happened?” Pryce said.  His physician instincts kicked in, and he took over holding pressure over the bleeding as they moved.</p><p>“She’s been shot,” Roman said.  “Is Prycilla’s tank still full of water?”</p><p>Pryce looked furtively at the Rumanceks.  “It’s full, but it’s an amniotic fluid base.”</p><p>“Does that include water?!” Roman roared.</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Pryce said. </p><p>“Come on!” Roman said.</p><p>Pryce led them through the passage in the maintenance closet.  They descended the metal steps to the floor where the tank lay.  Roman stood on the base of the tank.  He lifted Lucy up so that Peter could toss her legs over the lip of the tank into the fluid.  Roman dropped Lucy into the cloudy liquid, shoving her shoulders down until her head was submerged. </p><p>“What are you doing?!” Pryce exclaimed.</p><p>“Trying to save her!”  Roman screamed. </p><p>He held her head and shoulders under the liquid, prayers to anyone who would listen on his lips.  “Come on, Lucy,” he breathed.</p><p>“What if she’s lost too much blood?” Peter said.  “What’s in this shit besides water?  Will this even work?”</p><p>“It’s all we have!” Roman cried.  “I have to try.”</p><p>Lucy floated, limp in the fluid, bubbles rising from her nose and mouth, her pink blood tinging the liquid.  Nothing was happening.  She didn’t move or thrash as she had in the bathtub before.  She didn’t fight for air.  She simply bobbed like kelp.</p><p>Roman let go of her.  She didn’t float up.  There was nothing.</p><p>“I’m sorry, man,” Peter said.  “I think she’s gone.”</p><p>Nadia began to cry.  Destiny, through her own tears, turned her face away, carrying the baby to a lab chair in the corner. </p><p>Roman stumbled back from the tank, his lost eyes staring at Lucy’s submerged body, through the glass.  He pressed his hands to the tank, just over where he could see Lucy’s face.  Grief swelled inside him like geyser.  He pressed his forehead to the glass.  He closed his eyes and screamed through clenched teeth.  Neither Destiny nor Pryce had ever heard a noise like it before.  Peter had.  That same scream echoed in his heart when Letha died.  Roman pulled a fist back and punched the glass, cracking it in a starburst, liquid trickling from the breach.  He opened his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks, and began to sob like a child.</p><p> </p><p>And then Lucy’s eyes opened in the liquid.  Her mouth opened, and her chest expanded and contracted, slowly.  She was breathing the fluid.  She turned her head, looking all around, look at them all through the glass, her blue-black hair floating like a mermaid.  She pressed a hand against the glass.</p><p>“Lucy!” Roman cried, pressing his palm over hers on the other side of the glass. </p><p>She actually smiled.  She lifted her floating t shirt, and they watched in awe as the bullet hole closed before their eyes, the angry red hole became a pink scar, then smooth pale skin.  At last, her feet pushed off the bottom of the tank, and she emerged from the surface of the liquid, spewing fluid, coughing.</p><p>Roman climbed onto the platform of the tank, and then vaulted over the lip and splashed down into the fluid with her.  He threw his arms around her.  They were both crying and laughing, as were Peter and Destiny.  Roman wiped her tears with his hands, pushing wet hair from her face.  He kissed her hard, sobbing against her mouth.</p><p>“I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” he said, when he pulled away at last.</p><p>“I thought you did too,” she said.</p><p>He pressed her forehead to hers, looking at her from under his eyebrows.  “I love you,” he whispered.</p><p>“I love you too,” she said.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I do have an epilogue coming next.  Thanks to all of you who have read and enjoyed this story, and an extra special thanks to those who left kudos and comments.  It's been so much fun.</p><p>I am kicking around an idea for a Season 3 fix-it with this character as well.  If anyone would be interested in that, let me know.</p><p>Thanks again!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman’s back rested against the curved side of the bathtub, Lucy’s back reclined against his chest.  They were sharing a bowl of strawberries and a glass of bourbon. </p><p>The day following the White Tower was spent together, the three of them.  Roman didn’t want to let them go.  They played with Nadia, cuddled and kissed her.  Lucy and Nadia went to the nursery only once, when workers came to hang a new front door.  When that was finished, Roman himself tore the broken door from the nursery.</p><p>No more soundproofing.  No more hiding. </p><p>The evening was cartoons and patty-cake and pizza delivery. </p><p>And when they put a sleeping Nadia in her crib together, they barely made it to the bottom of the stairs before Roman pulled her into his arms.  Their kisses were desperate.  Desire heightened by their near miss, and the relief of safety.  They made is as far as the couch.  Roman, frustrated, actually tore her panties from her.  He went down on her for what felt like an hour, her leg thrown up over the back of the couch.  His lips and tongue pulled two orgasms from her, the second one so strong she seemed to convulse, and he swore she pulled some of his hair out from clenching her fist in it so hard.</p><p>Lucy looked down at him, at the smirk on his face as he watched her catch her breath.  And she found tears filling her eyes, running down her cheeks. </p><p>“Hey,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands.  His smirked was replaced with a worried look.  “Hey, what’s wrong?  Did I hurt you?”</p><p>“No,” Lucy laughed through her tears.  “No, I just…” Theirs foreheads rested together.  “I love you,” she said.  “I thought I was leaving you, when I just found you.  After all these years, I never thought… I don’t even know what I’m saying.  Ignore me.”</p><p>“No,” Roman said.  He kissed her softly, like a prayer.  “I know exactly what you’re saying.  I thought I knew… what love was.  I didn’t.”</p><p>And he kissed her tears from her cheeks as he climbed over her.  He sank inside her, and they both moaned into each others’ mouth.  And the sound of his “I love you” as he erupted within her was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.</p><p>Afterward, they found their way out of the rest of their clothes and into the tub. </p><p>Lucy snatched Roman’s bourbon glass from his wet hand and took a sip, setting it on the little table with the strawberries.  “You’re going to have to fire me,” she said abruptly.</p><p>“What?!” he laughed.</p><p>“I can’t be your girlfriend and stay on the White Tower payroll.  People will talk.”</p><p>“People always talk,” he said.  “What do you care?”  He caressed her hands, lacing his fingers between hers.</p><p>“I know,” she said.  “Still feels wrong somehow.  Feels prostitute-y.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure that’s not a word,” he said.</p><p>“You know what I mean.”</p><p>He thought for a moment.  “Are you sure?” he said.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said. </p><p>He moved his hands over her, resting his palm against her stomach, the evidence of her gunshot wound was completely gone. </p><p>“I won’t even have a scar,” Lucy said.  “I can’t believe it.  And whatever the doctor had in that tank…”  She lifted her foot from the water.  “My rope scar is gone too.”</p><p>Roman had nothing to say, for all he knew, Pryce had discovered primordial ooze.  All he cared about was that Lucy was alive. </p><p>He moved his hands higher, rubbing soap bubbles over her breasts, running her nipples between his fingers. </p><p>“That feels really good,” Lucy whispered.</p><p>He abruptly stopped, reaching for another strawberry, popping it into his mouth.  “I guess I could always hire a new nanny for Nadia,” he said.  Lucy slapped his arm, splashing water.  “A responsible girl, with a Master’s Degree.”</p><p>“You’re such a shit,” Lucy laughed.</p><p>“Or you could just move in here,” he said, suddenly serious.</p><p>“What?” Lucy said.  She sat up and turned in the tub, facing him.</p><p>Roman leaned forward and cupped her face with one hand.  “Move in with me, with us.”</p><p>Lucy grinned.  “You’re serious?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said.  “No more running back and forth to the trailer.”  He looked into her eyes with an intensity and made her blush.  “I want to wake up with you in the morning.  I want us to put Nadia to bed together like we did tonight.  I want to see you smile.  I want to make you come.  I want finally get around to giving you those flowers.  I want to figure out where all your ticklish spots are.  You make this place feel like home.”</p><p>Lucy was biting her lip, trying not to cry again.  Then she smiled.  She dipped forward, sliding onto her stomach.  She slithered up the length of him, dragging the points of her nipples up his torso, deliciously.  She caught his mouth with hers, slipping her tongue inside against his, tasting their bourbon and strawberries and his cigarettes.  Smoky caramel.  His warm soapy hands slid over her back and down to the globes of her ass, giving them a squeeze and pulling her tighter against him.  She felt him harden between them, and dragged her fingertips down the planes of his torso to wrap both hands around the velvet steel of him.</p><p>“Unh!” he moaned, pulling away from her mouth.  He moaned helplessly again as she stroked him, her hands twisting around him in opposite directions.  “Is that… ah… a yes?” he panted.</p><p>“I’ll start moving my stuff in in the morning,” she whispered in his ear, nipping the lobe between her teeth.  “Sweet-talker,” she breathed.  “How long did you practice that speech?”</p><p>She squeezed him and he actually whimpered.  She’d never heard him make that sound before, and she felt a deep sense of womanly power and satisfaction.</p><p>“Maybe… unh… maybe four or five times… fuck…” he gasped.</p><p>“How very practical of you,” she crooned.  She put her lips against his ear again.  “I like you helpless like this.  But you have to tell me.  Do you want me to make you come like this?  Or do want to come inside me?”  She twisted her wrists around him again.</p><p>“Fuuuck,” he moaned.  “I want… I want…”</p><p>“Use your words, big boy,” she chuckled.</p><p>“Inside you,” he panted.  “I want to come inside that gorgeous cunt.”</p><p>She released him and looked into his endless eyes.</p><p>“Then come here,” Lucy said.  “Come here and fuck me like you love me, Mr. Godfrey.”</p><p>He smiled when he pounced.</p><p> </p><p>Pryce leaned over his microscope, as he’d been for the last fifteen minutes.  He lifted his dictation recorder to his lips.  “Hemoglobin is present, as are platelets.  Full stop.  However, comma, there are an unusual amount of erythrocytes.  Full stop.  I will begin genome sequencing protocols following cellular analysis.  Full stop.”</p><p>Pryce turned to Dr. Blinsky, who’d just entered Sublevel 5.  “How much of the blood were you able to collect from the roof?” Pryce asked.</p><p>“I have at least 20 ccs,” Blinsky replied.  “Most of it was frozen.”</p><p>“That’s alright,” Pryce said.  “That actually may work in our favor.”</p><p>He raised his recorder again.  “These water-based regenerative powers may advance Project Ouroboros by leaps and bounds.  Full stop.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, that's it!  I hope everyone liked it.  As I said at the end of the last chapter, if there's interest, I may do a Season 3 fix-it with the same character.  Let me know your thoughts in the comments if you'd be into that.</p><p>Thanks to every single person who read my very first fanfic, and EXTRA special thanks to those who left kudos and comments.  You guys kept me going!</p>
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